Destiny fulfilled
by SherrySummer
Summary: While Sephiroth is struggling to come to terms with the fact that there is nothing to fight for any more, Cloud refuses to believe in the world where Sephiroth is a God. Sephiroth/Genesis & Sephiroth/Cloud.
1. Chapter 1

Destiny fulfilled

While Sephiroth is struggling to come to terms with the fact that there is nothing to fight for any more, Cloud refuses to believe in the world where Sephiroth is a God.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. I only love the character Sephiroth.

* * *

Chapter 1

It has been forty days since Sephiroth finally fulfilled his self-imposed destiny and became a God. More accurately, forty days - or was it forty months, even years? Time carried little meaning in the scale of infinity - have passed since he accepted the Planet's proposal and embarked on his final journey to the Godhood. And after creating forty guardian angels together, Sephiroth's transformation was finally complete.

He should be feeling euphoric really, knowing the goal of his human/Jenova life has been realised without a shadow of doubt. So, why is he feeling that he has been cheated out of something, when the Planet completed her side of the bargain and gave him the full power of a God, befitting his status as her consort? A power that even she cannot take away from him without destroying herself at the same time. Even his Mother grew content, no longer plaguing his mind with contradictory visions when he looked into hers. Everyone is sickeningly content and at peace, as the Planet plunged into deep slumber, sated and feeling safe as the torturous dreams of Life Stream finally dissolved away into the unknown corner of the Universe.

That is, nauseating complacency filled the entire Planet and all its creatures except Sephiroth. His willpower was far too strong to be swept away by the hypnotising feeling that the Planet's untroubled sleep has been effortlessly inducing in herself and all that depended on her. But why couldn't he feel fulfilled and for once happy on his own account? After all, his dream has been achieved, and no one can dispute – since he is a God and the chosen consort of the Planet - he has earned his rightful place.

It's true that the sense of his triumph has been slightly dampened by the Planet's welcoming embrace. But then Sephiroth was just as good at a negotiating table as he was at a battlefield, and the Planet would not have given him what he had fought for, had his willpower been less tenacious. She would have taken what she wanted without returning any favour. In fact, she wouldn't have needed him at all.

All things considered, the hollow feeling inside him is probably not justifiable. Then again, justification or no, when was he ever willing to allow feelings to affect him? He has been only happy to lock any feelings away deep inside him, as soon as they scratched the surface of his consciousness. The one time he lost control under their influence nearly got him killed – so unlike him failing to ensure that his target is indisputably dead - and resulted in the burning town of Nibelheim, which delayed his plans and united his enemies. Only, he no longer needs to do away with his feelings since nothing can make him vulnerable.

With a soft sigh, Sephiroth stretches his glossy silver wings that have been covering his torso and looks down at the unmoving form next to him. His consort, the personification of Planet's core energy, lies on the bed of clouds in the shape of a beautiful woman. Her face sculptured and her skin flawless and soft, she looks human and feels like one too. Sephiroth, however, knows better than to believe this appearance is her true form.

Unlike Sephiroth who can still experience all too human sensations through his own human/Jenova body, immortalised and form shifting it may be, she has no real body to begin with. It is only through borrowed consciousness, experiences of the Dead, she understands at all any of the physical sensations as humans, animals, and Sephiroth have experienced. His touch brings her none of the desired effects that would have affected her creatures. Now that he has completed his side of the bargain and given her the guardian angels she wanted, he has no desire to touch her form. It is rather like playing with a badly designed toy.

_Angels dream of becoming a human_.

He didn't believe the words when Zack related a part of his conversation with Angeal to him. Why would a being superior to a human ever wish that? He had always known humans were weak and traitorous. Even when he believed himself a part of the human race, he wanted to be something more than a hero for a hero was still a mere human. The only time he despaired at the possibility of not being a human was when he suspected himself nothing more than a demented scientist's experiment.

When he jokingly told Genesis that the red head could have the role of a hero all to himself, it wasn't meant to be patronising. He genuinely preferred to fly away and become more than a mere mortal. After he had found out the secret of his origin, he wished nothing other than the total destruction for their kind, to take away the Planet from their greedy grip and return her to her rightful owner – himself, of course. Humans did nothing but try to manipulate and use him. Even Zack – one of the supposed-to-be loyal few among the species - in the end took the side with his betrayers and stabbed him while his back was turned.

_And yet_…

He ponders idly now that he can afford feeling a little generous.

_Was there some truth in Angeal's words?_

_Perhaps._

He concedes with justified arrogance.

_Gods take pleasure in playing with humans._

* * *

Cloud hates this particular dream with all his shattered heart. It simply has to be a dream, even though it is hard to dismiss as mere illusion – a fanciful working of his own exhausted mind - the familiar flowery scent that surrounds the pretty slender figure which looks remarkably like Aerith.

True, his archenemy too has defied death and returned to haunt his waking moments, no less than twice. But being a half-Cetra doesn't mean she could survive the death he witnessed firsthand. She is no Sephiroth; she is no Jenova cell-induced monster who stubbornly refuses to find peace with death.

At first though he nearly believed her. He thought it was a miracle, a gift from the Planet to her greatest Champion. He has suffered so much, though he is never certain whether it has been to save the Planet from a madman's clutches or to avenge his mother's death. He would do anything to bring her back to life, knowing how much Zack loved her and knowing that he is to blame for her demise.

This thing in front of her, however, is not Aerith. The said thing is telling him she never died in the first place. Worse, it is telling him that he never beat Sephiroth, that all AVALANCHE members are dead except Cloud and herself, and that the only reason Cloud survived was because the deranged ex-General willed it so.

Nothing in the world would make him fall for a lie of that magnitude.

"You really don't remember, do you?"

The concerned tone in that thing's voice is disturbing. It almost makes him feel guilty.

"Go away, whatever you are," Cloud finally snaps, closing his eyes and willing himself to wake up and face his grim reality.

The suffocating guilt and emptiness that is sure to await him is better than this shameless lie. Because in his reality, his friends are very much alive, even though they spend little time with each other. In that reality, he has defeated Sephiroth and will continue to do so till the silver-haired menace is nothing but a distant memory. In the real world, Zack didn't die in vain, and the good were destined to triumph over the evil in the end. But most of all, humanity means more to the Planet than an overpopulated virus that sucked her energy dry and needed to be wiped out. The Planet sees the good in human beings. They are simply more special to her than the rest of her creation. The Planet has a heart, especially for those who risk their lives to protect her. Right?

"Cloud, you cannot waste your life in sleep. I know it is hard to face the reality, but I was desperately worried for you. I thought you would never wake up. You promised Zack you would live for the both of you. Remember?"

The blonde warrior submerges himself deeper into the creamy white sheet that covers and warms his naked form, palms covering his ears. He refuses to converse with a devil disguised as a sweet, caring girl. If only he didn't feel so weak, he would strangle the life out of that imposter. Maybe then, he can wake up from this nightmare, no doubt another sick mind game Sephiroth is playing. He can survive this unscathed; he has grown stronger and learned to block out the influence of the cursed Jenova cell in his body, abused in the name of science.

Silence. And much to his relief, the imposter makes no move to get herself heard. The feeling of relief at his small triumph is, however, short lived. His stomach growls loudly and his throat feels unbearably dry. If only he can wake up from this dream and fix himself something edible. He shouldn't feel like this anyway; he is hardly a human after all Hojo's genetic experiments. He doesn't have to drink or eat for a few days. He can even go on without sleep for a few weeks. And he is certain that he didn't suffer for long the lack of food or water in his waking moments. Nevertheless, his body's craving for nutritional substance is getting worse by the minute.

_Would I wake up if I die in this dream?_

An imperceptible smile forms at the comforting thought, only to be replaced by a grimace. Panic creeps into his dizzy mind at an alarming speed, nearly causing him to hyperventilate.

_People sometimes die in their dreams._

Perhaps, that is what Sephiroth planned all along, plaguing his dream with perverted scenarios till he cannot stand it any longer and perish in his sleep. The evil plan, however, has been discovered and therefore is as good as foiled. He will not hide behind the meager protection of the bed sheets. With clenched fists and deathly glare, Cloud stands on his somewhat wobbly legs, paying no attention to the nearby brunette who has quickly averted her eyes and is now blushing furiously. He shouts as loudly and as menacingly as his apathetic throat will allow

"I will not die in this nightmare of yours, Sephiroth. Do you hear me? You are nothing but a crazed psychopath who should burn in hell for eternity. And I will make sure that you do."

And that is when, for the first time since his rise to the Godhood, Sephiroth hears the desperate cries of his former puppet whom he has nearly forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. A big Thank You to everyone who has taken time to read and review this fic. :) You guys kept me motivated. And scriobhneoir45, thank you heaps for your kind review, since I could not get back to you. Sephiroth only intends to play with Cloud, and it's going to be up to Cloud how their interaction will affect him. Hope you are not going to be disappointed with this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Two

Cloud's eyes are cold with a hint of malice as they are locked into those of the girl-shaped thing in front of him. He has to give it to the imposter; she is such a convincing actress. Her emerald doe-eyes are even wider than usual, her expression that of fear and sadness. She staggers back a few steps, one hand covering her mouth and shaking her head side to side as if in despair.

"No." The cry is meek and strained. "You can't… you shouldn't…"

Cloud frowns disapprovingly at the whimpering, but cannot help the feeling of dread coming over him. The uneasiness is soon explained as lights, pure white and blinding heat, explode from the center of the room and rapidly fill the space. The blond warrior's instinct kicks in and his eyes close immediately even before he hears a faint warning about having to do so.

Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the lights are gone, along with the unforgiving heat. Cloud opens his eyes with a scowl, even as familiar warmth invades his mind, crippling his defense barrier and whispering him to succumb to the sense of contentment and security. He knows that sensation and what it means all too well because he never feels it around anyone else but Sephiroth, even though his hatred towards the black winged monster is all too real. The Jenova cells rejoice at the reunion, however unwilling their hosts are to acknowledge the influence. A ridiculous irony that only his archenemy's presence can induce that feeling of being whole again.

At times like this, Cloud is forced to acknowledge that he is in fact not entirely free from the call of Jenova cells. He can only fight their influence long enough to battle and kill his enemy. A proof that hatred is stronger than love. Nevertheless, his enemy's demise hurt him like hell; it felt as though he was extinguishing the very light of his own salvation when he was in reality ridding himself and the world of a nightmare that must end.

Bright blue eyes are drawn to a tall figure standing in the center of the spacious, sparsely furnished room. Yet again and despite his loathing at his own reaction, Sephiroth's beauty paralyses Cloud, if for just a moment. Luscious silver bangs frame an angular face with high cheekbones, piercing emerald eyes, straight nose and oh so delicately curved lips. Bewitchingly long eyelashes add softness to the somewhat carved stone like perfection. His posture is proud, his aura demanding respect and admiration. No monster has the right to look so alluring.

_To think that you were just a lab rat in the beginning._

Sephiroth takes a long graceful stride towards the blond, his expression impassive other than a predatory gleam in his cat-like eyes. The move sharply pulls Cloud out of his trance, urging him into action. Since he does not have his Buster Sword in sight, the smaller warrior lunges himself with all his might only to find himself frozen in midair. Cloud curses being in Sephiroth's nightmare. There is so little he can do in this dream-world; no matter how much he wills otherwise, he has no control over his body.

"Sephiroth, most merciful lord. Please forgive him. He does not realize …" Aerith manages to speak, finally overcoming her fear. However, her heart-felt plea is cut short by the silver haired human/Jenova God's icy stare.

_Merciful_. Cloud silently scoffs with disdain. Seeing that his enemy has created this whole scenario, Sephiroth must be even more delusional than he thought possible.

"Silence, half-Cetra. Surely, even your fragile mind can comprehend that your little charge deserves punishment after his childish antics. If you want me to spare his life, you will remain quiet till I'm done with him."

Sephiroth's words are spoken softly, the tone almost caressing and soothing. Aerith, however, knows that she is not to disobey the consort of her mistress, the Planet. She lowers her head like the good little servant she is, pity for her friend swelling in her heart. Severity is one of ten aspects of a God and something in which Sephiroth excelled. She can only hope that Sephiroth has grown tired of that particular aspect since he frequently manifested the trait before his Godhood.

Having dealt with Aerith, Sephiroth grabs Cloud's waist with one hand and carries the blond off to the bed. _How little you know me, Cetra?_ He thinks with a glint of amusement, as he takes a seat on the bed and places the small blond's torso across his lap. Aerith certainly has no understanding of his intentions towards Cloud. Aside from Mother's desire to keep the boy alive, he himself has no appetite for impaling his ex-puppet with Masamune; the boy has grown on him as a reliable punch bag would on a boxer.

"Watch," Sephiroth commands quietly, raising one hand before bringing it down with enough force to leave a red hand imprint on the naked buttock.

While the impact leaves Aerith speechless and somewhat relieved, Cloud's mind turns into a battlefield for raging emotions, some acceptable and some highly objectionable. Embarrassment, disgust, shame, anger and hatred are there as they should, but they are compromised by a strange sense of comfort and longing for more. It feels as though Sephiroth accepted him at some level because spanking is a form of discipline and discipline implies membership. And why did that stinging sensation make him feel so alive? How he despises himself for wanting to belong to his mother's murderer and hates Sephiroth for twisting his mind!

As for Sephiroth, he is surprised to find how therapeutic the physical contact felt. Neither did it escape his notice how entertaining it was to observe the array of conflicting feelings that tormented the boy. Maybe just maybe this toy is worth more to him than he thought possible?

Leaning down, Sephiroth whispers lovingly, "The concept of Hell is proof to the depravity of human mind, Cloud. Funny that you think me cruel, when your mind is capable of endorsing such a callous idea. I have no use for a Hell and will not create one. But, perhaps, I can make an exception for my favorite plaything? It is up to you, puppet. Think about it."

* * *

Aerith nervously paces the room, sucking her thumb without being conscious of the childish habit. Cloud, now clad in black pants and a sleeveless shirt, has eaten the vegetable broth she laid on the bedside table. He has, however, made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want her company. Even her offer to show him around the house has been rejected.

Since Sephiroth's departure, all the blond warrior has done is sitting on the floor in front of the blazing fireplace and ignoring her. She suspects that he wouldn't have touched the meal, had Sephiroth not told him to eat. Nor would he have bothered to cover himself. She really has no clue as to what her former bodyguard is thinking. She can only sense that he has retreated into his own miserable world.

From the large window opposite the fireplace, Aerith can see snowflakes falling, painting the landscape with brilliant whites. She would love to put on her jacket and go out, admiring the view of the night sky and surrounding forests reflected upon the nearby river. Perhaps then, she can feel the pulse of the Planet once again, the dazzling dance of light and darkness, and listen to the seductive and yet comforting song of her mistress. Still, it feels wrong to abandon the brooding figure to his own devices, even if her presence hasn't helped him in anyway.

_Zack, I miss you._

She feels so alone and lost. And even though she is certain that Cloud feels the same and is just as confused about her mistress' decision as she was, it does nothing to bring them together.

"Cloud, I know you are hurting. And I'm truly sorry that things turned out to be this way," Aerith speaks, her tone gentle despite her heavy heart.

No response. No acknowledgement of her presence. Cloud remains immobile, his gaze firmly fixed on the rise and fall of the flames. The half-Cetra is, however, determined to prepare Cloud for Sephiroth's return. The young God was surprisingly lenient in his dealings with his former subordinate. Nevertheless, he has taken Cloud's voice away as a part of the punishment, and the only way Cloud is going to get back his ability to speak is to accept Sephiroth's Godhood as reality.

"Are you mad with me because I'm not angry over what happened?"

Cloud turns his slightly bowed head sideways and glares at her. He has been trying so hard to figure out how to survive in this grim nightmare, while trying not to think too much about how his existence turns meaningless without his nemesis. He didn't want to admit that apart from Zack, his friends were no more than a convenient reminder of his status as a hero. It was Zack's dream, and he had to live it for the one true friend who died while protecting him. Sometimes, however, he so envied his lost friend and wished Sephiroth would defeat him once and for all. Not everyone dies as a hero. Nevertheless, to die as a hero, he cannot let go of life even though he only ever feels alive when Sephiroth is present.

"I'm a half-Cetra, Cloud. We Ancients fought each other to extinction because the Planet wanted it that way. But more than that, I was given to the Planet even before my birth."

Aerith gives a soft sigh before she continues.

"I'm not like you or Sephiroth. I didn't choose my destiny, and I cannot be any other way. I was born to serve her. And when she is silent, I must follow the commands of her chosen consort. My human half grieves over the countless deaths, but she merely sought it as a matter of restoring the balance. Sephiroth suited her purpose perfectly, because he had little sympathy towards mankind while having perfect control over the workings of Jenova cells. He was much more useful to her than you or I."

_How can you understand that a humble virus is just as important to the Planet as a human being? That human beings have grown too powerful and disruptive to the rest of her creation for her liking? I have more connection to her than you, and I struggle, too. But can't you see I'm here for you?_

Cloud turns his gaze back to the now dwindling flames. He is no longer sure whether the brunette in the room is merely an imposter of Zack's girlfriend. What if Sephiroth found and trapped Aerith's spirit in the same nightmare he is in?

"Good night, Cloud."

It is all too much. Not knowing how this dream world works. What if Aerith is suffering because of his cold rejection? What would Zack think of his callous behavior?

"I'm sorry."

Cloud closes his eyes, willing himself to sleep in the lingering warmth of the dying fire, willing himself to wake up in another world. If he returns to this world, he will have to leave her behind.

* * *

A.N. I'm planning to bring Genesis into the story in the next chapter. I haven't decided about bringing anyone else back. If you want to see a particular character come back to life in this fic, please let me know. I will seriously consider it. Suggestions, questions, feedback? Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Even though Genesis believed in _Loveless_ and all the mythical prophecy the book offered with zealous veneration, he had a little idea as to what the promised land should actually look like. A flash of a field with flowers blossoming and birds singing here. A picture of naked lovers lying on the grass and reading poetry to each other there. Disjointed images of peace and happiness were all that he would get, and Gaia liked keeping her silence on these matters.

Had he thought hard about it, he might have come up with a description of something like 'everlasting lazy Sunday afternoons in the sun under a Banora apple tree'. Perhaps, with a glass of wine and a company of Sephiroth and Angeal. However, Genesis was a romantic in his heart, and the non-existent details in _Loveless_' vision for the future after the end of the world never really troubled him as far as he played his part in the new beginning. Though he had a healthy dose of cynicism, it was never directed towards his Goddess and her wisdom.

Despite all his unconditional devotion to his Goddess, Genesis had a much better understanding of her nature than most humans thanks to _Loveless_. He had known the end of the world would be the Goddess' doing. The beasts that were supposed to precede the drama were the Weapons created by none other than the Goddess herself. Therefore, when he awoke from his deep sleep by the vision of an arrow leaving the bow of the Goddess, he knew what would come and what he had to do.

He was to become _the hero of the dawn_.

The Goddess had given him her most precious gift. He would not waste it.

Shortly after leaving the flooded cavern beneath Midgar, where he had sealed himself, the auburn haired ex-Commander appeared in the slum sector of the city, with his black wing stretched out proudly in all its glory and his voice an elegant calmness among the nervous, frightened population. The air of gloom and doom prevailed in the air throughout the whole city, as news after news reported the defeat of the mighty Shinra army against the Planet's Weapons which had an uncanny knack of sniffing out humans and would attack only the species and their settlements.

Genesis returned to the heart of Shinra and spoke with conviction, offering protection to those who would follow him into the new future. He spoke of harmony, balance, respect to all children of Gaia, and the will of Goddess. Any other time, he might have been treated as a lunatic and shouted down. But people were desperate and were ready to clutch at any straw in order not to be drown. He was their only hope. So, Genesis found himself an eager and attentive audience.

Then, he was suddenly struck by the vision of Sephiroth in his God form with seven magnificent wings embracing the Goddess, drawing her into an intricate circle woven with light and darkness.

Genesis' breath caught in his throat, and for a moment all he could hear was the beats of his own heart. Sephiroth was alive and yet lost to him forever; his chance of redeeming himself to his one-time friend would never be.

"And Sephiroth, our God, is no longer indignant," was the somewhat unseemly closure of his otherwise inspiring speech.

In the end, whatever he said really didn't matter. All that was needed was his confidence and words of hope. He led those who were willing to follow into the nearest mountain, fighting a few Weapons on the way and impressing his group of followers. Among the group were a few Turks, perhaps with the intention of keeping an eye on the stray ex-Commander. Genesis ignored them; they were no threat to him.

A few days after the exodus, Midgar and Shinra collapsed, and all the Weapons went back to their original hiding places. Aside from those who escaped Midgar with their self-appointed protector in time, only a dozen pockets of human population, mostly in mountain villages, survived the devastating onslaught against mankind.

Genesis, who had slain his adopted parents in rage, was the new hero of the surviving mankind. Genesis, who had condemned his loyal subordinates to the fate of becoming his clones and his tool of revenge against Shinra, now ruled the Eastern continent with the help of the few Turks who had been assigned to watching his every move. Genesis, who mocked and called his friend a perfect monster while being in desperate need of the said friend's assistance, was now the revered prophet of the Planet.

Some would call it gross injustice. Others would call it the supreme mercy of the Goddess – yes, even after the near extinction of the human race. For Genesis, it was simply a matter of destiny fulfilled.

* * *

Cloud is asleep and dreaming, unaware of the amused gaze upon his troubled face. In his dream, he is back to the imaginary and relatively more comforting world where he has defeated Sephiroth three times, and it is oddly entertaining for the human/Jenova God to explore just how the blond thinks he has defeated the strongest man on the Planet.

Sephiroth of course has known Cloud's mind was pretty messed up. What he never tried to find out was just how much. The kid's refusal to accept the truth does annoy the ex-General, but that is a common human weakness; most of them cannot live with harsh truths – the one reason why Sephiroth still holds a grudging respect for Genesis. Therefore, it is not so surprising to see that the blond has built a wall of comforting illusion through which every reality is bent and twisted to accommodate his human values.

_You must have known just how much your fanciful scenarios cost you and Zack?_

It is a big leap from witnessing Sephiroth disappearing in the direction of a Mako reactor to actually throwing him into it. Cloud himself knew what really happened when he returned to Zack. In the beginning, the blond just didn't have the heart to tell his friend the truth, perhaps believing he and Zack would both die anyway. Zack, however, managed to contact the Shinra headquarters and reported Sephiroth's death, and they in turn promptly informed Hojo, who was on the way to Nibelheim. Cloud's little white lies resulted in rendering both himself and his friend as very interesting and deserving test subjects for the single-minded scientist. And later, when Cloud recovered much of his lost memory, that fiction became a permanent fixture in his still illusive memory.

Cloud simply could not cope with the fact that his lie was the very cause of years of their imprisonment and torture suffered at the hands of one scientist who never forgave them for the loss of his most prized specimen. Neither could the blond blame his friend for accepting such a blatant lie as truth, which played an equal part in their soul-destroying years of entrapment in the Shinra Mansion. Only the naïve, hopelessly romantic First Class Soldier and the obsessive scientist with no common sense would have ever believed a nameless trooper defeating the very first and strongest Soldier, when the said trooper didn't even make it into the prestigious program.

Shinra didn't really believe Zack's account of what caused Sephiroth's rather dramatic vanishing act; they wisely settled for a suicide attempt by a crazed man. And that's why they agreed to the problematic witnesses being handed over to the scientist with such ease.

_How pathetic_.

Sephiroth's ex-puppet isn't just pathetic. Cloud is rather annoying, too. In his elaborate alternative scenario of Sephiroth's defeat, Cloud made out that he killed Jenova in Sephiroth's form. Though not exactly flattered, Sephiroth can excuse the delinquent plot since no one likes failure.

The imagined event of Sephiroth unleashing the Weapons and erecting an energy barrier is something Sephiroth can believe himself capable of doing, had the Planet not interfered with his initial scheme. He could even congratulate the boy on finding out how he used and manipulated, through his willpower alone, his Mother's remaining body to avenge the President Shinra.

But to believe that the energy barrier was destroyed by a Mako cannon? That is simply blasphemous. It is a downright insult to Sephiroth's strategic mind; the first thing he commanded his Mother's body to do after leaving Midgar was to go to Junon and destroy the Sister Ray. Besides, had the event gone according to his original plan, the sorry band of do-gooders going by the name of Avalanche would have never found Cloud as the boy envisaged. Sephiroth would have killed every single one of them; they were no serious threat to him except Vincent, but they were still irritating. And unknown to the ex-Turk, Jenova in his form already took out Protomateria from Vincent's body while he slept. Sephiroth would have never listened to his Mother's plea to release Cloud from the Shinra prison, had it not been the case. He had obtained the control of Chaos without the knowledge of either Chaos or its host.

_I didn't spend five years studying the Lifestream for nothing_.

Nevertheless, Sephiroth is the winner, Cloud the loser. It doesn't bother him all that much how foolishly Cloud overestimated his own power while underestimating that of Sephiroth. Still, the young God fully intends to make the blond eventually reconcile with the reality of things. If the boy truly has the making of a hero, he should be able to live with and acknowledge the truth, however painful. Removing all his unpleasant memories, real or make-believe, and turning him back into the shy docile creature he once was will not be an option, no matter how Mother wishes the boy to be happy.

_You will succumb __to me and only me, and I will see to that whatever the cost. _

Despite his contempt for the boy's cowardly ways of fleeing from truth, Sephiroth finds it rather amusing that the boy insisted on bringing him back to life after his supposed defeat. The remnant idea was rather interesting, even though the names of such constructed remnants were rather bizarre and their characters too childish for Sephiroth's liking. And Geostigma? Really, the idea is rather ludicrous. Jenova cells either mutate/destroy or enhance their recipient. And there is no way that such disease will affect those who have been enhanced by the cells.

_Why did you insist on bringing me back to life? Why didn't you solidify your triumph and create a new villain that should boost your status as a hero?_

Aside from the boy's over-active imagination, the scenario of Sephiroth returning through the remnants provides some valuable insight into Cloud's confused mind. He cannot live without fighting Sephiroth; he cannot function without the threat that is Sephiroth. In short, he wishes to suffer his nemesis.

Long fingers reach out and experimentally caress the edge of soft lips. Cloud's troubled look immediately disappears. Even in sleep, or perhaps because of the sleep, the blond draws comfort from his nemesis' touch.

Sephiroth never really took any notice of the blond before Nibelheim, except as a little cadet whom Zack took under his benign wing. His interest in the boy became a thing of substance only after Cloud successfully absorbed his Mother's cells. However, he had always known the ex-cadet was hopelessly attracted to his beauty, and he shamelessly took advantage of that physical attraction to make Cloud do his bidding.

Only now, however, Sephiroth finds captivating in their own rights the boy's sweet face and his traitorous desire for his nemesis.

The boy, however, can wait. It is time to attend the little matter of Genesis.

* * *

A.N. If you have received an alert for this chapter twice, I apologize. The fanfic site is playing up again! Genesis' meeting with Sephiroth will take place in the next chapter. When I started this fic, I didn't really intend to have Genesis in it. But he is one of the most interesting characters in Crisis Core, and now I have him here, I want him to stay. There are other characters who will make an appearance, but it may take a little time. So, please be patient with me. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. Your reviews do inspire me. Please keep them coming.


	4. Chapter 4

Note to Tyl (pairing question): Hi Tyl, firstly, thank you for the review. I'm sorry about not mentioning the pairings. It's mainly because I wasn't sure in the beginning whether I wanted pairings (by which I mean sex scenes and/or romantic relationship) in the story. My fics tend to grow organically, and it takes a little time before I am sure what I want to happen in the relationship between characters. But now I am this far in, I am afraid there will be male/male sex scenes. This chapter is, however, safe in that regard, and I will write a warning in the beginning of every chapter if there is a smut scene. I understand not everyone is a slash fan. It's just hard to remember it when I read and write both hetero pairing and slash fics. Hope this answers your question, and thank you for dropping by. :)

* * *

Chapter Four

With large cities and towns all around the world no longer inhabitable, Genesis led his followers to the south of the Eastern continent, where smaller towns and villages were located not far from subtropical forests. It had been a strange journey. The ghost cities and towns they had passed showed no sign of human tragedy and struggle apart from crumbled buildings and houses. No bodies were left lying around as a reminder to the indiscriminate nature of brutal attacks against human civilizations.

Indiscriminate in that the Weapons attacked all humans without exception. The Weapons were partial in another sense; they had been designed to eliminate the human race and only that species. It was as though the Goddess let them thrive on the Planet only with a view to destroying them later on. The survivors were still too apprehensive about their own safety and future that they showed no sign of questioning the Goddess' method of restoring the lost balance on her Planet. They had accepted Genesis' explanation that humans lost all respect towards the Planet and her other creation, inviting her wrath upon themselves. Yet, she was merciful enough to give them a second chance. It all seemed to make sense. Without pity or grief for the vanished residents, they merely searched and collected valuable items – mostly food and clothing – and moved on.

Seeing that no visions concerning the whereabouts of the Promised Land came from his Goddess, Genesis accepted Tseng's suggestion for their final destination. The ex-residents of Midgar eventually settled in the fertile area where most of Midgar's rice and wheat supplies had come from. The climate there was conducive to farming, and fruits were abundant in nearby forests. The location was also not far from the sea, making fishing a viable part of the community. With the human population reduced to less than ten thousand, resources for their survival were by no means in shortage.

Really, the place was a land of honey and gold and was as good as a Paradise.

Except, Genesis mourned for a space where he could be hidden away from prying eyes. Tseng and a couple of Turks did a good job deterring people from turning up at his tent unannounced and asking for his audience. That, however, meant they were still watching him, and Genesis could not simply walk away from those whom he so heroically saved without establishing some kind of order that would survive when he had enough of playing a savior.

Oh, he very much enjoyed being adored and loved. Fame was what he lived for and thrived on, but only _at a distance_. He was by no means a people person, and frankly he didn't want anything more to do with the survivors other than his occasional public appearance for one of his speeches, which were religiously recorded and passed as the law.

He could never relax around people. Tseng was tolerable, and Genesis was beginning to enjoy the usually silent man's presence. Being trained to be discrete and perceptive, the raven-haired Turk knew how not to aggravate the ex-Soldier's short temper. Unfortunately, the rest of the company was not so amiable. What did they want from him? A hug? It puzzled Genesis why they sought his presence when he had nothing much in common with them. He bemoaned the lack of a solid building where he could lock himself inside and remain as the mysterious hero. The construction of houses and other buildings were moving at a snail's pace due to the small number of skilled builders among the refugees.

Being forced to live amongst those who practically worshipped the ground he walked on, Genesis truly missed Angeal, who found pleasure in interacting with and inspiring ordinary people, even though he never liked his childhood friend's honor and dream sermons. Angeal always had taken tedious tasks off Genesis, so eager to help him and forgive him for anything. Back then, he never really appreciated his friends as much as he should have, so wrapped up in his own dream and desire for fame and glory. Recognition of his brilliancy by the public in large wasn't of course all that he thought of, but nothing was more important than his one dream.

_After all, dreams define and shape who we are_.

Now that he finally had what he craved for most, he wasn't sure whether it was worth all he and his friends had to go through, many of which he was responsible for.

_Angeal is dead and Sephiroth is unreachable_.

It was during one of his sentimental musings that Genesis heard a voice that sounded remarkably like his own.

"Genesis?"

There, in the middle of his private tent, in the depth of the night, the winged creature stood, wearing an almost identical expression as that on Genesis' face, _surprise_.

Apart from the fact that he was glowing, emitting soft light, and had two silver wings to match his silver hair, his appearance was that of Genesis dressed in a white robe.

_No, not quite._

Upon close inspection, Genesis could see that the being had cat-like emerald eyes with narrower shoulders than his and a slightly more youthful face. Discounting the glossy wings and Sephiroth-like features, the being looked uncannily like Genesis when he met Sephiroth for the first time. He was twenty years old then, full of optimistic hope for the future and not at all bitter.

_Who are you?_

The being's lips curled up into a sweet smile, and when he spoke again, his voice was melodic without Genesis' habitual condescending tone.

"I am Camael, the first born of the holy union between our God and our Planet. My lord Sephiroth sent me here to find you."

_An angel_.

"You are to travel to the northern crater, _immediately_. You may fly to the northern continent, but once there you must travel by foot."

And that is how Genesis finds himself fighting his way through the wasteland covered in snow and ice, gleaming white through and through. Even without wings, the ex-Soldier's speed is legendary, only next to that of Sephiroth. He is too enhanced by Mako and Jenova cells to feel the biting cold. It still has taken him a good five days to come this far, with little to no rest. At least, however, he now knows Sephiroth is close.

He's been asking the same question again and again. Can he hope against all hopes? After all, hope was the one thing he never let go of throughout the worst crisis of his life.

Camael didn't stay around to satisfy his curiosity, and from the look of surprise on the angel's face, Genesis did not believe his look-alike had an answer to his question. Why did Sephiroth and the Planet create their first angel in Genesis' image? Does this mean he is still dear to Sephiroth on some level?

_My friend, I couldn't simply beg for your assistance. My pride was all that I was left with. _

"Lame excuse, Genesis."

Genesis whirls around in a flurry of red and black to see Sephiroth softly landing on the snow covered ground, one lone black wing gracefully curved with the barest of quivers. The young God now stands motionless in his human/Jenova form, his long silver hair swaying a little sideways in the harsh wind and glowing in the pale moonlight. He stands there not as a God, but as how Genesis last saw him – wrapped in the familiar General uniform, a long black coat with silver cauldrons and matching black boots and pants.

It is an endearing sight, if not for the fact that the Masamune is already drawn, and his expression is somewhat cold, void of any playfulness. His next words confirm Genesis' suspicion that Sephiroth has yet to forgive Genesis for the disrespectful and callous insults the ex-Commander so carelessly meted out in their last meeting.

"And don't call me your friend. You've done an impeccable job in shattering my last remaining illusion as to what you so shamelessly call a friendship."

"Would you rather me not to offer any excuses at all?" Genesis asks, managing a playful tone and trying not to lose faith. Sephiroth will forgive him for his past transgression; he always has. Surely, the ex-General didn't summon Genesis all the way here just to kill him off or tell him that they were no longer friends.

Sephiroth regards Genesis' hopeful expression in cold fury. He knows what the ex-Commander is thinking, but what annoys him is that Genesis is probably right. He would forgive Genesis in the end. The auburn haired beauty will, however, have to think again if he believes Sephiroth's forgiveness is easy to earn, after all that has happened between them.

Aside from and despite their obvious connection through Jenova cells, Sephiroth still finds Genesis spoiled, imprudent, impulsive and reckless. In short, Genesis is pretty much either irritating or infuriating. Sometimes, he even managed to evoke both feelings. Hell, Genesis was the only one who managed to breach Sephiroth's nearly perfect barrier so many times. And he is succeeding even now.

It is easy to dismiss Sephiroth's attraction towards Genesis merely as the workings of Jenova cells. While that explains the human/Jenova God's fondness and tolerance towards Angeal, there has been always something else working in Genesis' favor. Sephiroth hardly noticed Angeal in the beginning, unlike Genesis whose carefree manner and enticing, well-defined face left a deep impression on the ex-General after only what was their first encounter.

Genesis was and still is the epitome of elegance and grace with volatile passion always lurking under the surface and freely erupting given half an opportunity. Unlike Angeal and Sephiroth, Genesis never really bothered with discipline, except as a means of self-improvement. Sephiroth, never quite understanding why, was seduced by and drawn to the impossible arrogance that was Genesis until that same arrogance pushed him a little too far in their disastrous Nibelheim encounter. Genesis represented freedom and all things Sephiroth could not have and could not allow himself to become.

"Sephiroth," Genesis calls out tentatively, taking a few uneasy steps only to find the pointed end of the Masamune blocking his path.

"Stay where you are."

As reckless as Genesis is, he can understand perfectly well that Sephiroth means what he says. The calm voice carries an implicit threat that cannot be withdrawn, simply because he has spoken. One foolish move, the young God will not hesitate to impale Genesis with his seven-foot katana. It's not the worst kind of death, but if Genesis must die, he wants to make it an offering, a meaningful sacrifice.

So, Genesis does something that will catch Sephiroth off guard. He kneels down on one knee with one fluent motion. Then he raises one hand, palm up and holding out a white apple.

"I have nothing to offer you that you do not already have. But know this. Whatever you desire from me will be given willingly."

Emerald green eyes light up in amusement, softening the cold look on Sephiroth's face. For anyone else who somehow crossed Sephiroth, the gesture would have meant a desperate attempt to preserve his life. Genesis, however, would never lower himself merely to save his skin. And that reflection causes Sephiroth to smile, even though it is by no means enough to dissolve the hurt and the subsequent barrier he built against the red head.

"Does that include your life, Genesis?"

Sephiroth already knows the answer, but he likes to hear it all the same.

"If that is what you desire."

"And you will not ask for anything back."

"Nothing that you are not willing to give."

"Not even Angeal?" Sephiroth raises one eyebrow, his tone mocking without malice.

Genesis finally manages a smug smile, a glimpse of hope returning to slightly hooded blue eyes. "Not unless you wish him back."

The Masamune disappears into the air, and Sephiroth takes a slow bite into Genesis' offering.

"Then you will be mine. You will serve me as I see fit."

* * *

A.N. The rating will change from the next chapter. I'm sorry for the short notice and hope none of you will be disappointed with the change. Thank you as always to everyone who has been encouraging me to continue with this fic. ^_^ You guys rock!


	5. Chapter 5

A.N. My interpretation of Jenova in this fic was largely inspired by 'Break Me Down' by _sorceress alexandria. _If you can handle Sephiroth/Aerith pairing, it really is worth a read. Obviously, my version of Jenova is different from hers, and it is still in the process of development. And I would appreciate it if you could tell me what you think of my version as this fic progresses.

Warnings: This chapter contains a male/male sex scene. If you'd rather not read it, please read only the first segment and no harm will be done.

* * *

Chapter Five

As soon as Aerith opens the door, a chill runs down her spine. The room is cold with gusty winds, and the window is wide open. She searches the room frantically, only to find the Buster Sword gone from the wardrobe, where it was carefully wrapped and hidden behind a row of long winter coats. The wool coat she made for Cloud has gone missing, too. It doesn't surprise her that there is no message for her, but it still hurts.

_Why must you shut me out?_

Aerith used to believe in fairy tales even at the age when most girls grew out of entertaining such fanciful stories. Zack was her Prince Charming, and she dreamed of a white wedding in a field full of flowers, bees and humming birds. She believed that the Planet wished her to be happy. She thought that the Planet would grant her little wish because she had been a good girl.

_Have I been a good girl though?_

She has been compassionate; she loved all Gaia's children – people, animals and plants. Her power was that of healing, and she thought the Planet wanted her to help anyone who needed her. The Planet, however, didn't want her to make friends with humans, and Aerith unwillingly crossed her. She didn't realize what the Planet's emphasis upon her duty as an Ancient precisely implied. She didn't know that Jenova was truly an Ancient, because her understanding of her mistress grew weaker as her dependence on her human friends became stronger.

It was only when Cloud fell unconscious and all her other human friends had died that she finally came to understand why the Ancients perished and who Jenova really was.

_Why did you lie to me, mother? What did you try to achieve by telling me Jenova was an alien and defeated by the Ancients because she was a threat to the Planet?_

Deep down, Aerith knows the answer. Her mother had grown too fond of humans, and did not wish Aerith to become the tool of their destruction. How can she fault her mother when she herself has committed the very same sin?

_Gaia, I failed you. I was too weak even to understand you._

Over the course of her life, the Planet survived many crashes caused by various meteorites. Not all of them have had devastating effects on the Planet's echo-biological system. In fact, many of them were beneficial. They often brought unknown forms of life, which then evolved and made interesting additions to existing species. They also helped with controlling populations of several species that grew too large in number, much like the effects of earthquakes and volcanoes employed by the Planet.

There had been, however, meteor strikes that had nearly destroyed the Planet, and it was necessary for the Lifestream to exercise its power against giant shooting stars from the Heaven on a regular basis. It was for this reason that Planet had produced the Black Materia and instructed the Ancients to summon it at a specific time.

And the Ancients disobeyed her when the time came! More specifically, the council of the Ancients voted against her mandate and transformed the materia into a temple, making it exceedingly difficult to turn it back into its original form. They did not believe the Lifestream or the white Materia Holy would completely neutralize the effects of the meteor. While they themselves could avoid any disastrous outcome, they feared the humans would not. It had already become common practice that the Ancients bedded the humans and produced offspring together.

Gaia called for the help of the Ancients who were still faithful to her, resulting in an all-consuming war between the Ancients. Unfortunately for Gaia, the council of the Ancients was winning the majority of the battles.

Then, the meteor fell, exploding and unleashing power that the Planet had never seen before. A Calamity from the Sky, the council of the Ancients termed it even though its size was relatively small. The energy trapped in the meteor was nothing ordinary. When it penetrated into the Planet's atmosphere, it instantly mutated and killed everyone in the vicinity

_except Jenova_.

"He will be safe, Aerith."

The brunette turns away from the wardrobe, a hand still uncertainly hovering over her red coat. A small smile appears on her face, her arm returning to her side. The being standing in front of her radiates warmth, and he looks like a miniature version of Sephiroth with black hair and blue eyes. Only as tall as Aerith, his cheeks are still round and his eyes contain a look of friendly mischief, which Aerith is certain Sephiroth would never have had even as a child. Sephiroth must have been thinking of Zack during this particular angel's conception, though the influence seems somewhat minor. The thought is heartwarming.

"Jeliel."

Jeliel raises both hands as if in surrender, his smile widening.

"Yes, I am the seventh guardian angel of Nature. It's lovely to finally meet you, Aerith. You smell sweet, just as I imagined."

"And you smell of forest and water, which is so lovely."

"Good. I am to escort you to a large human settlement in the eastern continent. Will you come with me? They need a priestess there while their leader is away. When he returns, you will be formerly ordained as such."

How hard is it to kill an instinct? Even after all that happened, the possibility of being able to help people is strangely welcoming to her nature.

"Our lady would not object to me befriending humans?"

Jeliel laughs a blissful laughter.

"Our lady is asleep, and our lord sees no harm in your presence there."

Aerith does not ask what will happen to Cloud. She knows he will need his time alone, even if she doesn't like to admit it. She can only hope Cloud can find peace in time and move on. For now, it is enough to know that he is safe and Sephiroth wants to keep it that way.

Aerith takes the hand Jeliel offers. She will take any chance to gain the slightest happiness, for Zack and for herself.

* * *

Genesis often imagined what it would be like to be taken by Sephiroth, though he had never let his desire known to his friend and rival before Nibelheim. The temptation had been always there. Only, he could not allow himself to belong to Sephiroth; he could not weaken his resolve to beat his rival and become a hero. He would not be cheated out of his destiny.

So, when Sephiroth whispered _I want you_ after a particularly difficult mission, Genesis just laughed and left it there. Sephiroth never asked again, and all was well as far as Genesis' ambition was concerned. That, however, did not stop the fiery red head from fantasizing over what it might have been.

Still, none of his scenarios in his head involved this.

Genesis' lithe naked body is arched over his own red coat, heavy and wet with frozen snow beneath and blizzards from above. His vision is filled not by that of the man who is claming him but by that of endless gleaming white enveloped in darkness.

No words of want or desire are whispered in Genesis' ear, as he struggles to accommodate Sephiroth inside him. All he hears are the howling of the winds accompanying the heavy snowfall and the small gasps that he sees no reason for holding back. Bent knees are brought up higher as Sephiroth withdraws himself before forcefully slamming back inside the red head. Only the young God's brutishly tight grip on Genesis' hips prevents him from collapsing to the ground. Genesis knows full well that he is not meant to enjoy the experience; Sephiroth will complete the act without any consideration for the one beneath him.

This is not an act of love but one of sacrifice offered and accepted. Blood and pain are the necessary parts of it all. And Genesis would not have it any other way. He is determined to prove the sincerity of his words.

The initial discomfort at their joining has now turned into harsh jolts of acute pain and pleasure mingled with a sense of comfort from being one, as Sephiroth picks up his pace. The ex-General is now moving the same way as he wields his trusted Masamune – powerful, graceful, accurate and indifferent to the few drops of red that stains the snowy blanket. He holds nothing back, thrusting again and again with frightening strength.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh follows uninhibited cries in a rhythmic circle. And while nothing seems to keep Sephiroth from his marble composure, Genesis struggles not to break apart, his complexion now healthy crimson amid all the whiteness enveloping his sleek form. Moments carry on in unrelenting fury, and when Sephiroth's teeth sink into Genesis' tempting shoulder without warning, all vain attempts to make the experience last longer are lost.

Not long after the read head's completion, Sephiroth allows himself to lose control. He comes with a low quiet groan, eyes snapping shut for one brief instant. Swallowing hard, he uses one hand to pull up his trousers that have slid down during their intercourse while loosening his tight hold on Genesis' limp body and laying him down with a gentleness that has been lacking so far. Emerald eyes scan the nakedness before him, the same nakedness that eluded him for so long. It is beautiful and strong, and it is all his.

"Turn around."

Letting out a soft hiss of pain, Genesis does as he is told. Moving his body is difficult when his muscles burn painfully even through the lingering euphoria after sensual gratification. The pained grimace, however, is soon replaced by a delightful smile, as Sephiroth's warm soft lips descend upon his eyelid. The light and brief contact is all that Genesis needs after his selfless offering.

He has passed the test.

Sephiroth lies next to Genesis with one propped up elbow, enjoying the pleasantly flushed face of his company and the serene silence surrounding them. Peace they could never have had without first fulfilling their respective destinies.

"Had I died, would you have brought me back to life?" Genesis finally breaks the comfortable silence, still dazed and slightly sleepy.

_Yes, I would have. Even if it is just to kill you myself._

Sephiroth does not answer Genesis' all-too-transparent question. Instead, he decides to take Genesis to his main residence. His prize is worth more of his time. The young God rises to his feet, pulling up his company with him.

"Do you like fishing?"

Genesis blinks a few times at the unexpected question, almost forgetting how shaky his legs feel. Then he smiles knowingly and seductively.

"Am I to stay with you for a while?"

Sephiroth collects the red head's discarded clothing and pulls him into a tight embrace before leaping into the sky. One strong heart beats against another, their bodies molding into perfection as though they were meant to be one. Genesis could have had all of Sephiroth, but fate and the choices they made determined otherwise. And now their relationship will never be on an equal footing. Perhaps it was never meant to be equal, save for the reciprocal fidelity from Sephiroth. That was not enough for Genesis, but he will have to settle for less at this point. The price of being the hero.

Still, Genesis will have his reward.

* * *

A.N. I haven't forgotten about Cloud. He will be back in the next chapter. :) Can anyone guess what kind of 'fishing' Sephiroth was thinking of? Thank you as always to all of you who have been reading and taking time to give me feedback. ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

Note to Tyl: Thank you for dropping by and I hope I haven't lost your readership completely. As promised I will give warnings in the beginning if the chapter contains a sex scene and if so, in which segment. It isn't going to be perfect, as minor flirtations or sensual interactions will still be there. I just hope the story will be interesting enough for you to overlook this aspect. It was lovely to hear from you again. :)

* * *

Chapter Six

Cloud isn't really sure where he is going. Not that it matters too much, seeing that this is only a dream, even though disturbingly lifelike and not giving out any sign of it being imaginary apart from the incomprehensible outcome of Sephiroth's triumph. The sole purpose of stubbornly dragging his protesting legs was to get away from the fake Aerith, who tried to brainwash him into believing something he shouldn't.

It seems that he's managed just that. The sparsely populated mountain village is well out of sight, and no one is running after him. He hasn't come across many villagers, and those who did weren't exactly friendly. From a distance, they seemed to be happy enough, amiably chatting among themselves. He could even hear mirthful laughter, which immediately ceased as soon as one of them noticed him. Then, they resorted to whispering, eyeing his sword suspiciously and gesturing at him in an unmistakably disapproving manner. After that, they moved away from him, as if avoiding a plague. Cloud didn't care. What else would he expect from people in Sephiroth's dream? He preferred being left alone, anyway.

The ground is slippery with half-frozen snow. For hours and hours, he has not encountered any life form except snow covered low bushes and a pack of huskies chasing a large chocobo. He didn't think much of the encounter at the time, but vaguely noticed them wearing a collar like household pets. Their movements were impressively well coordinated for a playful chase. It was odd, but he didn't think much of it, too busy contemplating why he seemed to be dreaming for so long and why this dream world was so free of dangerous monsters. This world was freakishly boring.

One would have thought a sadistic monster like Sephiroth enjoyed having unnatural Mako imbued monsters to roam free in a world of his creation.

_Well, you disappoint me, Sephiroth_. _You are doing a poor job in breaking me_.

No answer. Cloud should be happy that Sephiroth is leaving him alone, seeing how desperate he was to escape from the Aerith imposter. But there is only so much white landscape – snow covered bushes and rocks – that one can take. He isn't even sure why he bothers walking any longer, except that even with an enhanced body, the idea of sleeping in a frosty wet ground does not bode too well. He needs to come across a cave at the very least.

So, he carries on, after quenching his thirst through swallowing some of the abundant snow. The night comes and goes, and he is still walking, even though his legs feel like jelly and he is dizzy with hunger and aching. Still no sign of a cozy little cave or the distant view of another human settlement. With each passing moment, Cloud grows bitter than ever towards the world he was thrown into. And in his unhappiness, he is beginning to feel resentful that Sephiroth is neglecting him.

_How inhospitable are you?_

Of course he blames the silver-haired menace for the absurdity of his feelings, but that does not help steering his thoughts back into a desirable direction, if it is at all possible to have rational thoughts in Sephiroth's territory.

At noon, Cloud decides that he's had enough. And his body gratefully collapses onto the ground, leaving him to suffer the unpleasant impact. Thinking about it, it now seems obvious that Sephiroth does not want him dead in this dream world. The ex-General clearly wants something from him, but death doesn't seem like the desired object. Not in this world anyway. Otherwise, his nemesis could have killed him easily by now, seeing that he completely lost control of his own body in his last encounter with Sephiroth. That means he can sleep and rest anywhere, even if the discomfort of lying on the hard wet ground, along with all other sensations he experienced in this world, feels strangely real.

_Very clever, Cloud. You could have figured that one out earlier._

Overexerted he may be, sleep does not come, and Cloud hurts all over, muscles burning and screaming for relief. Anger flares up from his core and spreads through his exhausted body and mind. The blond warrior does not know what kind of trick Sephiroth played to make the pain so genuine – to make everything feel so authentic for that matter, but he refuses to be abandoned like this. If he had his vocal chords still working for him, he would have shouted aloud a string of curses just to get the silver menace next to him. It is not right Cloud suffers alone without his nemesis.

_Show yourself. What are you afraid of? Can't you handle a real battle? _

No response whatsoever. Can Sephiroth only hear Cloud when he shouts out? Then, why did the black-winged monster deprive him of the ability to speak? Shouldn't Sephiroth try to find out what Cloud thinks?

_This is just all wrong_.

And that is the last thought Cloud manages before a feather light touch on his shoulder sends him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Cloud is dreaming again, but it is not the dream he believes as reality. He is looking at a woman who has knelt down at a stone altar. Her hands are clasped and raised high, her face tilted upwards with a serene expression. Her eyes are striking violet and her long flowing hair is bluish silver. A swirl of soft light surrounds her in an otherwise pitch-black place. Cloud knows her; her clear chiseled features feel familiar and endearing at once.

_Mother?_

She does not answer. She only smiles at him, but Cloud knows she is his Mother.

Then, in a blink of moment, he is inside her. And though she converses with the Planet in the language of the Ancients and Cloud has never come across the tongue, he hears every word and understands the meaning of each and every word.

"Why are you here? The tide has turned, the end of the rebels are close. Go back, and fulfill the promise your ancestors made to me."

A twitch of disappointment. Cloud can feel it, even though his Mother betrays no outward sign of such an emotion.

"They see me as a monster, not as your avenging angel. I have no allies left; they joined the enemy, frightened of my strange powers. For them, it is no longer a matter of a rebellion. They believe I am more of a threat to you than they are. They even believe it was I who told them to summon the Black Materia, even though it makes no sense timeline wise. There are signs that my kind has even brought humans into this conflict. They will not stop until I am dead."

"Then, eliminate them all." The Planet does not waver, her ethereal disembodied voice flat and void of any emotion. And Cloud feels as if he has been slapped across the face. Why is his Mother not angry, when she already sacrificed so much for the Planet? How can the Planet not feel anything at her predicament?

"And how am I to rule over them when none are left? I merely wish you would clear my name. I am with child, and I cannot bring it into a world that abhors us. My three children are already dead at the hands of our enemy."

Grief washes over Cloud in waves as his mother's calm voice steadily speaks of the demise of his brothers, whom he never met. He hurts because his mother is hurting, and yet he is quietly proud of her refusal to let it show. She looks so alone and noble, and he is her son. She accepted him as a part of herself. Why can't he be more like her? Why can't he protect her?

"I cannot appear before your kind. They have lost their connection to me. You and your child are above them. It is your destiny and that of your child to rise above petty mortals. Bring me a victory, and if the world still misunderstands you, I will open the Promised Land to both of you."

_No, Mother!_ Cloud cries out, desperate to keep her safe. _You cannot take both the Ancients and humans and still win. Tell the Planet to fight her own battle!_

And Mother smiles a sad heartbreaking smile.

_A contract, however old, must be honored. But I will never become just a nightmare._

* * *

One sleepy eye opens hesitantly, slender fingers slowly testing and marveling at the crisp cleanness of the bed sheets that wrap their owner. A bright high ceiling confirms that Genesis is not in his tent, causing him to smile contentedly.

_So, it all happened._

Except a dull ache in his shoulder where Sephiroth left a bite mark, no discomfort or pain lingers in his body. A wonder of Mako enhanced body, a gift to those whose will power is strong enough to survive the condensed spirit energy.

Something in the ceiling – disrupted smoothness – catches the ex-Commander's eyes. Genesis rises from the large bed and angles his head to have a better look. Symbols etched on the surface flow across the dome shaped area. It is a text written in the language of the Ancients.

_In light, we find truth. In darkness, we find comfort. Where light meets darkness, there lies the end and the beginning._

Symbols can be misleading. People who talk in abstract language may find each other more agreeable because it leaves so many interpretations open. Betrayals perceived are often no more than the results of false expectations stemming from misunderstood meanings. And yet, sometimes they are all that are left to appease a battered soul. Though no longer bitter and in despair, Genesis understands the intoxicating power of an ambiguous prophecy and idly ponders just who has written this one.

"Mother's thoughts just before her body took its last breath."

"Ah!" is the only response Genesis can manage, as one strong arm encircles him from behind. The red head suspects that a part of Sephiroth's anger could have been on behalf of his Mother. Yet, Genesis knows little of Jenova, and he has yet to learn how to feel bad about insulting or hurting those whom he did not care for. He's hardly ever apologized for anything he did, and he would not do it without sincerity. So, he settles for molding his naked body into the leather-clad one behind him. He craves the heat of that body like a kitten craves warm sunlight.

"Flirting with God is a dangerous business, Genesis," Sephiroth warns lightly, turning his captive towards him.

The said captive lowers his eyes as if in deep thought, before raising his gaze to meet that of the other.

"Where you see flirting, I only see accepting."

Sephiroth tilts his head to one side, considering the unabashed naked man before him. Genesis, Angeal and Cloud were all a part of his Mother, and parts always wanted to return to the whole. Sephiroth was the Chosen - the chosen son of his Mother and the chosen spouse of the Planet. Yet, apart from Sephiroth, Genesis was the only one who inherited his Mother's burning ambition, the right to rise above everyone. It was a destructive and unfortunate trait to share as far as their relationship was concerned.

Which was why Genesis' willing submission came as a surprise. Understanding came easy enough. It only took a little probing inside Genesis' head. The ex-commander's ambition stayed within his dream – a hero of mankind, undisputed and unequaled. That is how Genesis could bow before his Goddess and her equal. This Genesis whose ambition has been finally achieved is manageable; he has no reason to challenge Sephiroth's authority.

And it will have to stay that way.

"I have marked you, Genesis. Wear it well and with pride. It sanctions and seals your right to rule over your human subjects. I will not break the seal … as far as you remain devoted to me and will not attempt to override my will."

Genesis of course hears the unspoken warning _Do not cross me again_. He is, however, unconcerned. It will take more time to gain his former friend's trust, and he's always loved a challenge. He is merely curious as to why Sephiroth marked him where no one could see it when he is dressed.

"Not there. It is visible on your forehead." Sephiroth corrects the red head's assumption, gently prying Genesis' fingers off the bite wound that is now delightfully purple.

_Mine_.

The smoldering fire in Genesis' eyes are extremely tempting, combined with the slightly parted cherry red lips. Barely a sigh, however, escapes the young God's lips, his expression remaining unreadable. A part of Sephiroth wants the red head to become desperate for his touch; it will be delicious to see every fiber of Genesis burning and aching for him. Another part of him wants to teach Genesis his rule, whatever happens between them will be on his terms. Sephiroth will only be seduced when he wants to be. And both parts are in agreement that the pleasure of physical intimacy can wait.

"Are you ready to see a piece of the Promised Land?"

* * *

A.N. I think Genesis is rather gorgeous. Not a boyfriend material, but hmm … Hope I'm not overdoing angst with Cloud. Many thanks and hugs to all of you who have been supporting this fic. :)


	7. Chapter 7

A.N. Well, the bit about a wolf and lamb in the second segment is a bit of cliché, and I may have well used a _lion_ instead of a wolf. But I love wolves (my second favourite animals after dogs), and the image of a predator and a prey getting along is always the ultimate picture of a paradise for me. So there …

Note to Tyl: Hello, Tyl. I'm happy to learn that you are still reading, and thank you for your kind comments. ^_^ And yes, I am very pleased that you think my characters do not act off and I will try to keep them that way. Hope you will continue to enjoy the story.

* * *

Chapter Seven

It is completely dark except for the swirl of bright green energy seeping in and out of the windowless room. Cloud is crying, his body shuddering with silent sobs. And when he opens his eyes, he is glad to see that it is dark and no one seems to be around. No one could have seen him crying his heart out.

He isn't sure where he is and doesn't particularly care. He only wants to believe that it was not real and that his Mother would live.

_Mother?_

Doubt begins to set in his still sleepy mind. She couldn't have been his mother. His birth mother died in fire, unable to escape the wrath of a madman. The woman in his dream was definitely not his mother. So, whom was he crying for?

Realization dawns upon him, as he remembers where he has seen that face before. It was a dead face – hollow, empty and not at all like the radiant face in his dream. But the flowing silver hair and the violet eyes are the unforgettable features of

_Jenova_.

He was going mad himself.

Why else would he dream about that very embodiment of evil and believe her as his mother? Why else would he cry for her, when she was the reason behind Sephiroth's madness?

_No wonder he went crazy, wanting to avenge his Mother. She didn't look like evil reincarnated. She felt like a real mother, and one that would satisfy Sephiroth's vanity. Even when she was fighting a war against the Ancients and humanity. Stop right there, Cloud. What am I thinking?_

Really, Cloud would rather forget about the stupid little emotional breakdown of his. It is highly embarrassing, even though no one saw him wracked with sympathy for the evil creature. Besides, there is no way he would excuse Sephiroth's betrayal of mankind even if the silver menace were never fully a human to begin with. But the image of Jenova is not going anywhere, stubbornly playing inside his head again and again. It's not dispersing like dream images normally should after waking up. It's almost like he has remembered something that he doesn't want to, and the memory refuses to go away.

_Memory. The remnants had Sephiroth's memory. Does this mean I have Jenova's?_

Well, that is partly good news. It means he is not losing his mind. Unfortunately, it also means that the Planet is less than charitable towards humans or their human-centered values. So, which is worse?

Acid disappointment wells in his heart. The Planet did nothing to prevent Zack from dying. She did nothing when Aerith was brutally murdered by Sephiroth. Even now, when her champion is helplessly dragged from nightmare to nightmare, she keeps her silence. Either she is truly incompetent or she just doesn't care. It's nothing new. So, why not keep his sanity? That is the only thing that he can rely on. Who cares if the Planet is no friend of humans, when she is so powerless anyway?

After all, _every cloud has a silver lining_.

The blond warrior shakes with laughter, silent and bitter.

What is left of a part that is rejected by the whole? What is the Nature's outcast supposed to do, no longer wanted by the very source of his life?

_If the world seeks my destruction, it goes down with me._

Zack loathed and pitied Genesis who uttered these damnable words. Cloud did so, too. But now, the same words evoke much more than sympathy; Cloud can understand the sentiment all too well.

_Is this how you felt, Sephiroth? This crushing, suffocating despair? This anger that turns you against what you once sought to protect?_

No answer comes forth from his silver-haired nemesis. But there is a sudden outburst of laughter. No, laughter is too dignified a name for it. Cloud does not have a name for the cackling sound that freezes his blood with horror. He can recognize that sound anywhere, the sound which he loathes, despises with all his being and … fears. It belongs to Hojo, an enemy the blond cannot bring himself to seek out even to destroy.

There is one more reason to hate the Planet; she gave birth to the repulsive, despicable creature with no saving grace.

The green energy around him twists sharply, projecting an image of a man with a white lab coat, thick glasses and greasy black hair messily tied into a pony tail. The feeling of nausea and disgust crawls upon his skin like a marching army of scorpions. The creepy eyes behind the glasses are glowing, and mindless fear spreads into Cloud's veins like wild fire that grew out of control.

The image is gone, but the blond does not even notice. His eyes are firmly closed in a vain attempt to protect himself. His Buster sword should be somewhere close, but he cannot lift a finger to save himself. His mind is back to the one place he never wants to be, in the grim mansion where he was nothing but an experiment, where cruelty and torture were readily excused in the name of knowledge and for the good of many.

"So, you killed Sephiroth. Hmm? Beginner's luck, probably. Well, your luck continues. I'm here to help you become a perfect warrior, yes, the one you destroyed. Think you can handle a little pain? No pain, no gain. You see?"

Cloud desperately shakes his head side to side, because his voice dies in his throat and he is out of mind with fear for Zack and himself.

_I didn't kill him. I didn't. I am innocent. We are innocent. Just let us go. Don't punish us for what we … I never did. It was just one big misunderstanding._

"It's OK, Cloud. You don't have to lie. He is not going to let us go, no matter what you say. It is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. I'm proud of you, kid."

_You don't understand, Zack. I'm not lying. It was before when I lied. I lied._

Silence reigns once again. The voices are gone, and Cloud hears nothing but the desperate repetition of his own mantra, _I lied_. And when he finally gathers enough courage to open his eyes, there are no images, no sounds but the strange green light floating about him.

_Lifestream_. The room he has been resting is in its path. The voice that tormented him was nothing but a memory of a dead scientist. And whatever else Cloud feels about Jenova, he is grateful to her that she has brutally ended the life of his jailer, who taught him how little life, beauty and courage meant against the recurrent experience of pain and misery with no end in sight.

_Hojo is dead. He cannot hurt me_.

The feeling of relief is, nevertheless, quickly replaced by a sense of dread, fear of unwanted memories returning.

_I lied? I didn't defeat Sephiroth?_

Cloud doubles over as if having been kicked in the gut. Memories flood back into his unwilling consciousness.

_No!_

The swaying silver hair, the pained, broken expression, and a severed female head so lovingly protectively held by a grieving son. At the time, Sephiroth was not the perfect warrior he had been; his moves were slower, eyes not as keen and observant, and his mind not fully focused on the battle. Still, Zack could not deliver the final straw to bring down the ex-General. Neither could he. They both tried and failed.

_Failed_.

And if he was wrong about defeating Sephiroth the first time, can it be that he was also wrong about the second time and the third? Is that why his nemesis has been ignoring him? Because Cloud is not worthy?

The call of darkness, the thick black void where no sorrow or pain exists, has never been so tempting. What reason is there for him to live? When he cannot even command respect from his enemy, his obsession?

Happiness, he doesn't believe in it. Any chance of that went up in flames when his mother died in the fire. He has lost any right to feel happy after that. And Zack's death was the final blow. But at least he had Sephiroth, however twisted his need for the black winged monster had been. As far as Sephiroth came back, he had a reason to live. And Sephiroth always returned to him, ever faithful to their 'kill or be killed' relationship. If he loses Sephiroth's hatred, what else does he have? If he is not getting in the way of his archenemy's insane goal, will Sephiroth ever return?

_All is not lost_.

The first victory of his may have been nothing but a trick of his traumatized mind. But he still has his second and third victories against Sephiroth. That a part of his memory is faulty by no means implies that he never managed to beat his archenemy. It is going to be all right. Everything will be back to normal, when he wakes up from this nightmare into a reality that is neither fair or just, but is at least hostile to both of them.

Cloud Strife will not accept a world where he doesn't even have Sephiroth, because that world is worse than death.

* * *

Vivid green woven with an array of exquisite colors stretches miles all around the circular building Genesis didn't have much time to explore. He does remember, however, the interior of the building was predominantly dull white and the few furnishings black, as if providing a sanctuary for the assault of dazzling colors that adorn the landscape. Tall twisted trees can be seen close by, standing comfortably apart from each other and providing a variation of sort to the scenery.

It is a pleasant sight, but nothing so out of the ordinary. Even the airily sweet smell is not enough to convince the onlooker that this place is indeed the Promised Land that the mighty Shinra company wasted a fortune to get their hands on.

"The beauty of Nature is accidental, Genesis. You are looking for the wrong sign."

"Of course." Genesis concedes and tries to look harder, to understand better.

The old habit of arguing back is hard to let go of, especially when the subject involves an interpretation of something related to _Loveless_. But it is not going to help his cause to win Sephiroth's trust. The young God may be able to read minds, and therefore knows that Genesis has no intention to compete with or become God. The red head's temperament is, however, another matter. God or not, how is Sephiroth to predict Genesis in the long term when Genesis himself cannot? All he can do is to try his damn hardest not to lose and to strengthen his tentative hold on Sephiroth.

Still, beauty is the essential part of the Promised Land in Genesis' mind, and the only extra-ordinary beauty he can see in this place is Sephiroth, who walks a few paces ahead of him. Even the large lone black wing – a wing that Genesis loathed as a sign of a monster – seems to add an alluring air to his flowing movement.

It is not long, however, before Genesis comes across a strange sight. He sees two creatures tangled together near one of the tall trees, a wolf and a lamb to be more precise. At first, he thinks the wolf is going for a kill, judging from the proximity of the predator's mouth from the neck of the lamb. He is merely puzzled by the lack of struggle on the prey's part. Nearing the scene, Genesis is stunned to find that the wolf has been nuzzling into the fur of his supposed dinner.

"There is no conflict in this land. No birth, no death and no struggle for survival or power. These two creatures will not last a single day anywhere else. Still, a pleasing sight."

"Humans are not ready for this place. Neither are we."

Sephiroth laughs at Genesis' honest response, mocking neither Genesis nor himself. Pure, blissful laughter. And Genesis is proud of himself for being the cause of it.

"Gaia certainly didn't create this place for humans. And perhaps we spent too much time in the human world," Sephiroth observes, picking a circular red fruit from the lower part of the tree. "Try this."

Genesis hums as he bites into the succulent flesh, sweet juice spilling inside his mouth. It tastes like coffee flavored chocolate with bits of cherries inside. A pleasant taste, almost exquisite and certainly unique, but it is the instant feel of his body being energized that draws his attention.

"These trees are watered by the Lifestream," Sephiroth offers an explanation, long elegant fingers pointing towards a long expanse of river that crosses and divides the land.

And Genesis finally understands why he did not hear the flow of water. Green mist protectively covers the stream which looks more green than blue. Then, he notices something else. A cloud is rising afar, over the edge of the plain, indicating that this place is high up, like the top of a mountain. And following the move of the lone cloud, he can see more clouds above, so near that he can almost touch them. The sky is greenish blue, Lifestream energy spreading out and hovering above the land, blocking the clean view of the sky.

_An exception to the everlasting cycle of life and death. An exception to Nature, yet still part of it and therefore a fitting place for God. _

Sephiroth walks on, bringing both of them closer to the edge of the water and towards a body wrapped in crystallized Mako. The immobile figure looks as though it is resting in a peaceful slumber. He looks tall and strong with distinctive masculine features. He looks so much like

… _Angeal_.

"Restoring a body and finding a matching spirit is not the difficult part," Sephiroth answers Genesis' unspoken question, slowly turning towards his company. "The memories are, however, a different matter. Over time, they leave the soul and disperse into the Lifestream, paving a way for the Planet to return the soul to the earth. I have brought him back to life, but his memories are still floating in the Lifestream. Judging from the time of his death and the flow pattern of the stream, the memories are likely to be here soon."

"And you trust me to identify his memories, even if some of them I would rather him not to have?"

"You don't shy away from truth, Genesis."

In that moment, Genesis understands, from the unusual warmth in Sephiroth's tone and the soft light in the normally sharp gaze, that he has never fully lost Sephiroth's respect. It will always be there just like the mark on his forehead. That thought warms him to the core, and he wishes to always remember the feeling.

"What would you have me do?"

"I am sending you to sleep, to connect your consciousness to the psychological makeup of the stream. All you need to do is to concentrate and recognize Angeal's memories."

"That simple?"

Sephiroth smiles at the puzzled expression of his company. Life in the Promised Land is uncomplicated, and while neither of them is particularly suited to it, there are many pleasant aspects to such a life. Since he has earned it, he has every intention to enjoy what it has to offer. And Genesis is just what he needs to add a bit of spice to the beauty of simplicity. The red head isn't just enticing to look at; he has an uncanny ability to complicate things.

"That simple, and keep it that way. If you get annoyed with Angeal during the process, just remember you can always lash out at him later."

Genesis frowns a little at the instruction. Not that he is tempted to disobey it. Still, retrieving Angeal's memories may not be such an easy task after all. He seems to manage to find a cause for a struggle even in the Promised Land.

* * *

A.N. The next chapter will see another meeting between Sephiroth and Cloud. I probably won't be able to make another update before the New Year. So, I hope you will all enjoy your Christmas and New Year holidays. :)


	8. Chapter 8

A.N. I've finally got myself a beta reader and am proud of having found the right person. She has been very supportive and helpful. So, thank you, xlightfromabovex. ^_^

Note to Tyl: Ah, thank you! It made me very happy to read your review. I too believe that both Sephiroth/Cloud relationship and Sephiroth/Genesis relationship are complex. I'm glad that you think I've done a bit of justice to that complexity. ^_^ Hope you had a lovely holiday and continue to find this fic an interesting read.

Warnings: This chapter contains a male/male sex scene. If you'd rather not read it, please read only the first and the second segment.

* * *

Chapter Eight

Cloud is drowning into black nothingness, which everything comes from and returns to. The only thing that keeps his head afloat and his arms moving about is a faint whisper of a name, a name that stirs so many emotions inside. _Sephiroth_.

There is no Sephiroth in that void, his instinct insists. Otherwise, he would have been happy to give up his struggle against the promise of final peace.

The whisper becomes stronger, more insistent, causing him to try harder to get closer to the silver lined shore. Cloud pulls himself out of the black water and emerges onto the dry land, where the air smells of something familiar, something that reminds him of home.

A pair of arms reaches out as if in anticipation of embrace, and the surrounding silver mist rearranges and solidifies into a figure Cloud knows he must kill.

He opens his eyes with a smile; his enemy is nearby. In fact, he can see penetrating emerald eyes looking down at him.

"I leave you to your own devices for a little while, and you almost manage to join the Lifestream."

Cloud sighs inwardly. _You sound as if you don't want to send me there_.

"You are easier to kill than you give yourself credit for. You live because we have the same Mother."

He doesn't even bother trying to find his Buster Sword. He knows he cannot beat Sephiroth in this world. And it is rather nice to communicate and look into the alluring green eyes without being locked in deadly battle, which will result in Sephiroth disappearing for a few years. No one is around here except himself and his enemy. There is no need to play the hero in a world that isn't even real.

_Leave your Mother out of this. It has nothing to do with her. It's about you and me._

"Perhaps you are not entirely wrong. You have certain entertainment value."

Cloud creases his nose in disdain. _I'm more than just a toy to you. I'm your enemy, and I command at least your hatred._

Sephiroth answers Cloud by casually running his finger tips along the blond's jaw line. As expected, the youth mindlessly leans into the hand before jerking his head away in shame.

"Hatred is a strange thing, Cloud." Sephiroth purrs, his lips almost touching Cloud's ear and his warm breath sending a shiver down the blond's spine. "It may give a focus, a meaning, but it does not give you sufficient strength to overcome that of your enemy. In truth, it weakens your mind and interferes with what should be your priority. I learned that in Nibelheim. A goal, an objective, is much more important than petty feelings, even if it is born of those very feelings."

_Hatred is not petty! It is the price we pay for love._

"For someone who continuously runs from truth, you certainly are stubborn. I will give you that much. But, Cloud, do you realize that your constant need for hatred turned your life into something meaningless without my presence? Do you know just how dependent you are on me? Tell me. Is that why you believe I must deal with you before achieving my goal? Do you honestly believe I think you more important to me than anything else?"

Cloud wants to retort, to say something clever to throw Sephiroth off his pedestal. Why is it that Sephiroth can read his mind? It is so unfair. When put into words like that, everything important to him suddenly appears childish oversight. He wants to tell Sephiroth that he is just fine without him, that he loathes his enemy's beating heart, and that his life is infinitely better off without a certain insane ex-General. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no point in lying.

_But if I'm wrong, why are you here? Hatred is all that is possible between you and me. You never looked at me before I tried to kill you in Nibelheim._

"Believe what you will. Your loathing of me begins to bore me."

The cold finality in Sephiroth's tone strikes Cloud as a warning for his enemy's immediate departure. The ex-cadet doesn't even have time to realize he is panicking. With a speed most Soldiers would be proud of, Cloud sits up and throws himself at his enemy, hands stretching out to grasp something, anything of Sephiroth.

_Don't leave me alone in your nightmare. You owe me._

Nothing but empty air meets him, before the blond lands painfully and gracelessly onto the hard floor. But the desperate act catches Sephiroth's attention and delays his stay, if for just a few more moments.

"I owe you nothing. Not even hatred. I will not interfere with your death wish once again. If you wish to see me again, embrace the truth. It is the only path that will lead you to me."

Then, the familiar sense of warmth is gone. And Cloud weeps, until hot tears burn and melt frozen despair. He doesn't know what to think anymore. But if hatred cannot bring his nemesis back to him, he will find another way. One thing is certain. Without Sephiroth, there is nothing to live for. Without Sephiroth, there is nothing to die for. That much truth he will not run from.

* * *

The atmosphere of the large settlement is rather solemn, a clear contrast to that of the small village Aerith left behind. The village consisted of families who rarely left the place; no one lost anyone dear to them, and life went on as if nothing drastic had happened to the world. There, Aerith felt unwanted and redundant.

The survivors here, on the other hand, all have lost someone important and witnessed the ruthless cleansing power of the Planet, sharing the sense of grief and nervousness about the future which seems to have grown worse due to the absence of their leader. Even Tseng is clueless as to what happened to Genesis, and it still irks him that Genesis didn't consider it necessary to inform his whereabouts to his advisor. He has done what he could, informing the agitated populace that Genesis was dissatisfied with the slow progress in their building work. It gave them a focus, something to strive for. Tseng could only hope the new hero of mankind would be back before or just after the completion of a building that would accommodate his wish for a private space.

At times, the quiet Turk wondered what happened to Rufus. Or rather he pondered how Rufus met his death and why he insisted on sending his most valuable Turk after Genesis. Tseng did not believe Rufus would have been able to adjust to the New World. He was a prince – born and raised as such. He could not have been able to submit to Genesis' newfound power, and the ex-Commander would not have had any qualms about humiliating his one-time superior. After all, Genesis hated all things Shinra. Tseng had a feeling that the young President preferred dying as a king to living as anyone's subordinate, and yet he cared enough about Tseng to send him away from the impending doom that awaited the Shinra Empire and its enemies alike.

_Sons pay for their fathers' sins._

"Hello."

Tseng looks up to be greeted by sparkling emerald eyes, untainted by sorrow just like the voice that spoke the simple greeting. He has to wonder how Aerith retains such a cheerful exterior, considering what became of her friends. It is, however, hard to hold a grudge against a figure that reminds him of a little bird in search of a welcoming nest, so fragile and hopeful. The mild flowery scent she brings with her is certainly a pleasant addition to their grassy surroundings.

"Can I sit by you?"

"By all means."

Aerith settles herself down next to Tseng, whose gaze has returned to the settlement below the green hillside where they sit side by side. She finds him rather handsome, and there is a quiet beauty in him that sets him apart from the others. A shadow that does not intrude and demand attention; that thought brings a gentle smile upon her lips. And there is just enough restrained sadness inside him that she wants to reach out and comfort.

"Are you comfortable, Aerith? People treat you well here, I believe."

"Yes, I'm glad I found so many familiar faces here," she replies, happy that Tseng is making efforts for conversation. "Thank you for the tent and bedding."

The raven-haired man says nothing, but turns his head slightly to give her a half-formed smile before returning his gaze to the golden fields and the distant rows of tents below. Having her around makes life seem half normal.

_Normal?_ He laughs silently. When was his life ever normal? He's given up the hope of having his own family to honor his duty as a Turk. And even now, he misses how he used to live; he misses the element of danger and responsibility as a leader of his department. He doesn't believe he can ever get used to living a normal family life. Still, he has watched Aerith so long and made a promise to Zack that he would keep her safe. Seeing her alive and well lessens the sense of failure rising from the untimely demise of Rufus and his father.

"You are very pretty."

Tseng struggles to hold back laughter at the childish observation. No one dared to tell him that he was pretty, except a cheeky little subordinate he once commanded. And the response to her playful comment comes out somewhat abruptly, though certainly not without warmth.

"I am happy to see that the Planet spared her Cetra."

A wrong thing to say. Then again, he is no longer a Turk for Shinra. That obligation dissolved with its last heir's death.

"You knew?"

There is amazement in her voice, but no alarm. Perhaps it is no longer meant to be a secret.

"Shinra knew. I'd been watching you for a long time. I am a Turk."

Understanding dawns on her. She sensed Tseng was different, but she'd never realized just how different. She would flee from him, were she younger. She would have run from Zack, when she learned he was a Soldier. Only Zack seemed so friendly and so normal at the time.

"I've been trying to deny who I am," she begins, wanting to assure Tseng that she is not frightened by who he is. "I've always known that I am not like others. And I clung to everything ordinary. You see, I didn't want to be different. I was just so scared of what it all meant and how others would treat me. I thought that if I avoided anything unusual, if I just surrounded myself by mundane things, I could live a life that is not threatening. I didn't want to accept that I would always be alone."

Aerith pauses to find what she has been looking for. The calm inquiring expression on her company's face tells her that he doesn't judge her. He merely wants to understand her.

"I was wrong. Even when I surrounded myself by friendly faces, I was alone. Because I knew deep down that I've never given them a chance to know me. Not really. I think I was right to keep my secret. It was necessary, you know. But my secret made sure I was alone, no matter what I did. Even Zack never knew what I was. And if we got any further than we did, I don't think it would have worked out. And so … thank you for telling me the truth. It meant a lot to me."

It is a strange feeling to see a girl suddenly become a woman. Only now, Tseng realizes Aerith is not the naïve girl he knew. It is the face of a woman that is now staring at him, and it is no longer just sweet. It is seductive and desirable, even though its owner is wrapped up in girlish pink. And he wonders for the first time whether it is possible for them to become more than just acquaintances or friends.

* * *

Genesis tosses and turns restlessly, fingers clenching and unclenching white sheets covering his lean, beautifully toned shape. On the nearby chair, his red coat and black turtleneck shirts are neatly folded, indicating someone - preferably God, though likely one of his angels - took time to ensure he should relax in relative comfort. A happy thought. Only, rest is the last thing he needs at his present state of mind.

_Traitor_.

Genesis doesn't want to see Angeal. _Never_. He cannot believe he played his part in bringing back to life the feeble-minded gutless disloyal excuse of a Soldier he once thought of as a friend.

Feeble-minded and gutless, he should have known. What kind of coward would force his star-struck pupil to kill him because he was too scared to face what he would become? He was too shocked and saddened by his childhood friend's death to see it objectively. Instead, he blamed himself, Shinra and the cruelty of fate for Angeal's death, even though he clearly felt betrayed by his friend's selfish behavior. The redhead had no one but Angeal at the time, and the latter still left Genesis to suffer the despair alone. That act of desertion troubled and angered Genesis, and yet he was willing to overlook it considering the part he played in the events that led to the raven-haired Soldier's demise. And because he had missed his friend terribly.

But telling the dullard Zack that he, the oh-so-honorable Angeal, should have dealt with Genesis? That is just betrayal gone too far. Where is honor in killing a friend? What is honor without loyalty? A duty that has forsaken its meaning

_Hypocrite_.

It was a good thing that he could not see Angeal when he awoke. His Rapier would have sent his childhood friend back to Lifestream, tainting the place of peace and harmony with blooded violence. It would not have gone down too well with Sephiroth.

"You wouldn't have gone that far. Not with Angeal."

The deep velvety voice does wonders in mollifying the smoldering fury to a flicker, barely felt. Sensual lips curve upwards, and Genesis raises himself into a sitting position to admire the beautiful silver enigma that is Sephiroth.

"It seems that you trust me better than I trust myself."

"Hardly." There is however a ghost of a smile on the fine lips, and as emerald eyes turn a shade darker, heat begins to rise from Genesis' belly. Sephiroth doesn't have to lift a finger to set Genesis aflame. Sensing the piercing gaze roaming over his exposed flesh is more than enough to make the red head shiver with desire.

It feels so helpless and oddly satisfying to be made so vulnerable and willing. Sephiroth is the only one he could imagine himself to be taken by rather than to take, even before the ex-General's rise to the Godhood. His pride fought the sinful longing then, and he has absolutely no regret over it. But now, what was once sinful longing – betrayal to his destiny – is nothing but sinful. It has become divine because Sephiroth wishes it to be so.

"Lie down."

Barely a whisper and Genesis is quick to obey. Sephiroth seats himself gracefully next to the redhead, a scent of arousal pleasing his senses. Feather light touches descend upon Genesis, and Sephiroth watches how Genesis writhes and moans under his fingertips, how the refined face becomes delightfully contorted with its yearning for more. Soft wet lips replace fingers, as Sephiroth pins Genesis' curious hands either side of his head.

_Not yet, Genesis._

The words are not spoken, but Genesis accepts the restriction without pleading his case. His senses are already overloaded with shooting pleasure at the soft caresses and occasional harsh nips. All he wants and cares about is to be taken again and become one with the object of his desire.

Sephiroth, however, is in a mood to explore, and he takes his sweet time, like a child fascinated by the mechanisms of a new toy. Even when Genesis is freed of his last item of clothing, Sephiroth is in no hurry to pay attention to the redhead's silent pleading. Instead he runs his smooth palms over the silky thighs and firm buttocks, hot breath and strands of soft hair tickling and teasing the sensitive skin laid bare to his gaze. It is only when Genesis turns into nothing but a whimpering wreck that the ex-General finally decides to grant his companion's wishes.

Their joining is swift, bringing Genesis much needed relief. What follows is much less painful for the ex-Commander than their first time, though Sephiroth certainly refuses to treat Genesis as a fragile doll. This time, he considers the one beneath him, giving the red head time to accommodate him and moving only with measured force and speed enough to satiate Genesis' hunger for strong impact and rapidity while gratifying his own. Thick dark eyelashes flutter in time with each thrust and warm breath mingles with the scent of lust and heat. Sephiroth's grip on Genesis's hips tightens as the redhead nears completion. Only a slight increase in speed, and Genesis is done, abandoned to pure bliss. He is lost and found in the arms of Sephiroth.

Perhaps, he will let Angeal escape with just a few bruises.


	9. Chapter 9

A.N. I know the second segment may come across rather out of character, but it is Cloud's dream. And we lose a lot of inhibitions when we dream: it is a world of primal instincts, desires and fears. The common theme for the second and the third segment is 'rebirth through death'. :)

A big 'Thank you' to everyone who has taken time to read and review this fic. :) Your encouragement has been most appreciated. Hopefully, you will continue to enjoy this story.

Special thanks to xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and valuable critique.

Note to SephyRocks: Ah wow, thank you very much for the lovely reviews. You made me feel all warm inside. :) I love it that you are enjoying the story, and I will do my best to keep it interesting and in character. Hope you will approve this chapter. ^_^

* * *

Chapter Nine

The surroundings are dark and silent, with only the sounds of even breathing and gentle heartbeats standing out from the peaceful quietness. Sephiroth wakes up from his slumber at the delicate pressure on his neck to which Genesis' nose is pressed, and notices how the agile fingers – so fine for a swordsman – are tangled in the long strands of silver curtain around them. He moves away from Genesis' hold ever so carefully, not to pull his companion out of his sleep.

A slight scowl appears on the previously content expression in protest, but the redhead does not wake up.

Adjusting his position so that he can observe Genesis better, Sephiroth entwines his fingers with those of his companion. Genesis' expression relaxes immediately into a contented smile as he greedily clutches the offered comfort. A faint whisper escapes lush lips. _Sephiroth_.

The young God blinks a few times. The tender yearning in that small murmur is so unexpected of the redhead. Sephiroth knew full well what kind of emotions he invoked in others – admiration, devotion, loyalty, respect, lust, fear, jealousy, suspicion and hatred. He never really bothered to learn what to do about them. As long as he was the master of his own emotions, other people's emotions were their own business – he would only deal with them when they stood in his path. The only thing he understood instinctively was the necessity of instilling loyalty and respect into the hearts of his subordinates, and that came surprisingly easy. He didn't have to be a saint or socially adept to surround himself with devoted Soldiers; he simply needed to be good at what he did, and he was better than their wildest expectations.

It still hurt to see Genesis reject him, swallowed in a fit of bitter jealousy and cold resentment.

He understood Genesis was not above many negative emotions and acting on them, but he couldn't simply turn away from the red head for what he saw as an undeniable weakness. The red head often moved from one extreme to another, never knowing how to feel less. The ex-Commander, however, threw himself fully into everything he did; he was resilient and determined, however temperamental he was. Genesis was also unreserved in his admiration of beauty, and he was capable of unconditional devotion once he found the object worthy.

But tender yearning?

_You never cease to surprise me, Genesis._

There is, however, more than just amusement in his gaze, still considering and observing. There is also an almost caring regard in it, because Genesis without all his defensive barriers can look so fragile and vulnerable. And because Genesis, the proud and uncompromising, willingly and without bitterness submitted himself to Sephiroth. Yet, the red head's posture and expression still retain dignity and elegance in Sephiroth's company.

But for how long? Would he be content to remain in Sephiroth's shadow for eternity? Would Genesis even want the gift of immortality? Would he even know what it is to receive a gift that could very easily turn into a curse?

Only time will give more accurate answers. How frustrating and yet comforting it is that even God does not know everything. A future unknown is still a future worth striving for. And this is why he has thus far refrained from using his power to simply impose his will on either Genesis or Cloud.

Fortunately, there is so much that even Sephiroth does not know in the vast space of the universe. He has sent out some of his angels to explore the solar system that Gaia belongs to, and it is only the beginning. Some day, the Planet's life will come to an end along with the sun that supports all her creatures. And then, he will finally become God in every sense of the word; he will be the creator of new life on a virgin Planet. He wonders how many old faces will remain with him until that day.

Will Genesis be there? Angeal? And what of Cloud?

Genesis' grip tightens for a moment as though trying to pull Sephiroth out of his undesirable musings on Cloud. Of course, Genesis does not have the power to read minds. He isn't even awake, but the gesture still amuses Sephiroth.

_Cloud_.

In their last encounter, the blond looked terrible, weariness and despair etched on his otherwise youthful face. Sephiroth, however, could not miss the sparkle of life and hope in the large blue eyes as soon as they confirmed his presence. So fragile and yet so determined in his single-minded obsession. Who would have thought a quiet boy with a sweet face could have such intense emotions inside him, tearing apart and breaking him from inside?

Cloud was a creature of contradiction.

Sephiroth did what he had to do. Issuing an ultimatum to the boy was a necessary measure; it was the only way to steer the blond in the right direction. The quicker the boy accepts his defeat, the better. And the ex-General was as merciful as he could be, considering how antagonistic Cloud had been. Sephiroth implicitly told Cloud of a new possibility for their relationship, one that a part of Cloud's human values will struggle to accept but is infinitely kinder to the boy than the one that Cloud saw as the only feasible affair between them. The boy had been creating a hell for himself with no possibility for redemption.

_Nothing is more despairing than an existence that lives for killing its only meaning._

As intriguing as the phenomenon is, Cloud has spent more than enough time wallowing in his self-imposed misery. If he continues in his old ways, Sephiroth will soon lose his interest in the ex-cadet. It is time for the boy to try a different path.

And Sephiroth will be watching.

* * *

Cloud impassively watches a figure facing a brick wall. He has spiky blond locks and is naked as the day he was born, his arms stretched out and each arm upheld by a heavy chain attached to the wall. From the angle he is watching, he shouldn't be able to see the face, but he can. And the strangely euphoric face is none other than his own.

Euphoric in anticipation, because Cloud knows he will finally get the punishment he has been looking for.

_Punishment for failing himself, his mother, and Zack._

Vincent was a fool for not seeking out the same relief. Cloud on the other hand will be purified through blood and pain. And a whip, a simple humble whip, is all that is needed for his redemption.

He can see it now. His friends were no help to him because they were too _nice_, too common, and too out of their depth with his inner turmoil. They all fell for his pretenses of confidence bordering on arrogance between his bouts of brooding silence.

There is a cold glee in his expression, as he reverently picks up the long whip from a circular table and kisses its tips.

The naked body jerks forward as the first lash forcefully lands on its back, a long trail of leather biting into pale skin. A sharp cry is met by unfeeling indifference, as another lash cuts into the defenseless body.

_Bite your tongue, liar!_

Crimson liquid seeps through torn flesh, filling Cloud's vision with his own blood, but he doesn't stop. He doesn't seem to be able to stop even when the other Cloud is no longer smiling, his distorted expression containing nothing but pain and anguish.

_You killed Zack and stole his dream! You preferred Aerith being dead to losing Sephiroth! You deceived me._

The other Cloud does not beg for mercy, so determined to obtain absolution. A sinner cannot decide his own sentence; all he can do is to bear it with dignity. The blond warrior, the harbinger of purification, unchecked by any distraction, carries on till the other body goes limp and a horrible realization hits him hard and fast.

He's just killed Cloud.

He's just killed himself.

He has no right to. Only Sephiroth deserves that right.

Cloud doesn't panic. Instead, he smiles, feeling oddly remorseless. _I will just have to find Sephiroth to inform him of my transgression._

With the thought, he wakes up, unaccompanied by the usual heavy anguish in his heart, and is greeted by a radiant smile from a being whose light is so bright that it is almost painful to look at.

"Welcome to the real world, Cloud."

* * *

When Angeal was told by his guide that he was in the Promised Land, the first thought that came to him was that he was truly dead. He didn't doubt that it was the Promised Land he was looking at, that is, whenever he was able to tear his eyes off the beautiful angel who looked so much like Genesis. But he remembered why he had been dying, and it didn't feel right that he should be granted a view of Paradise.

He died a monster, fleeing from his own nature, and monsters did not deserve the Promised Land.

Was he completely dead? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

Then it occurred to him that he was breathing. As far as his common sense was concerned, the dead did not breathe. Nor did their heart continue to beat.

The angel only laughed, joyous and melodic, and held a hand-sized mirror up so that Angeal could examine himself. A sigh of relief escapes him, as he takes in the figure that looks back at him. The degeneration was gone along with his white wings, one large and the other minute, as though mocking at any attempt to see them anything other than abomination.

He was no longer a monster. He looked at what he yearned to become, a human being.

"You had been dead for years. My lord Sephiroth brought you back to life."

_Sephiroth is the lord of angels? Sephiroth is God?_

It was only then that Angeal finally noticed Sephiroth-like features in the silver winged angel.

"Explain."

And that was how Angeal learned about the fate of humanity, Genesis and Sephiroth. Except the unmistakable reverence shining in his cat-like eyes when he spoke of his lord, Camael stated the events after Angeal's death accurately and concisely, without the usual dramatic flare of Genesis. He showed neither apathy nor sympathy towards humans, and even made clear that his knowledge of the happenings was limited to what his lord thought Angeal should know.

"My lord will see you only when you bow to his authority as God."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then, nothing, except he will not grace you with his presence."

Angeal simply requested time to reflect on things. That was when he could see a glimpse of sun above his head, and now complete darkness reigns over the Promised Land. He hasn't moved once from the tree he is leaning against, occasionally indulging himself with its exquisite fruit and stroking the trusting beasts and birds that have gathered around him in curiosity.

Life here seems good to him, so serene and relaxing. Will Sephiroth keep him close even if the days of their friendship are clearly over?

The raven-haired warrior knows that he would have opposed Sephiroth, had he lived. He would have never fought Sephiroth to the death, however, just as he could not bring himself to raise his sword against Genesis. It was simply wrong for them to slay each other; it would have left a permanent scar that could never heal. Before his death, Angeal could not understand that his failure to stop Genesis was more than his loyalty to a long-term friend. He couldn't even understand what bound him to Genesis and Sephiroth. Had he done so, he would have simply denounced it as something inhuman. Only now, knowing that he has already died once and therefore no longer feels bound to the human centered values, he can accept their connection.

He saw himself as a monster, but it was his human values that fought against each other and destroyed him in the end. The shame of seeing his birth mother having committed suicide for what he had become was all too much. As a boy from a poor family, moral superiority had played a crucial part in securing respect from others. He could hold his chin high as long as he maintained and lived up to his high standard of morality. And yet, Angeal never suspected the very human values that he religiously fostered in himself and in others would one day laugh in his face, forsaking him as not worthy of their embrace. When it happened, he couldn't see a way out, so tangled in the web of self-portrayal as a man of honor and dream.

Human honor and human dreams.

It never occurred to him, monsters could have honor and dreams, too. It never occurred to him that a creation could become more than its creator.

It didn't matter.

He paid the ultimate price for his inflexible mind. He died for it. And this life he owed to Sephiroth. There was no shame in bowing to God.

Air stirs around him, and a sound of a single wing flap follows. Angeal rises to his feet, a slow smile spreading over his countenance.

Sephiroth stands before him, arms stretched out wide towards his one time friend. And Angeal returns the gesture by melting into the warm embrace. No words are spoken, as they tightly hold each other. No words are necessary, as the raven-haired ex-Commander marvels at the feel of their closeness – so right and so comforting. Even the familiar weight of white wings that suddenly sprang from his back does nothing to dampen his spirits.

Angeal has come home.


	10. Chapter 10

A.N. I know this chapter is short. But I believe there is enough content to warrant the length. Well, hopefully. XD I promise the next chapter will be longer. Hope you enjoy.

A big 'Thank you' to xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique and of course to everyone who has been encouraging me to write more. ^_^

Note to SephyRocks: Thank you for yet another encouraging review. :) It makes me happy to hear that you are enjoying this fic and my portrayal of Sephiroth. I cannot ask for more. XD

* * *

Chapter Ten

Cloud is staring into a face of an angel, but it is not the radiant figure with two glorious silver wings that he is seeing. He doesn't even notice the soft gleam in the discerning gaze. His mind is furiously working to unravel the disturbing dream he's just experienced. There is something important in that dream – a key to the only door left for him.

He is afraid to find it. He is afraid not to find it.

_If you wish to see me again, embrace the truth._

A choice that is no longer a choice because no other path will lead him to Sephiroth. But what is it about the truth that he found so disturbing? What is it about the truth that his conscious mind had been so afraid of? And exactly what has forced his mind into uncovering what it had been suppressing with vigilance?

_You preferred Aerith being dead to losing Sephiroth!_

And everything clicks together.

Aerith was kneeling at the platform, her eyes closed and her hands clasped. Cloud was there, along with the members of Avalanche when Sephiroth appeared, descending like an avenging angel. Chaos soon ensued, as the ground ripped open everywhere and the bursts of energy from Masamune danced across the air with deadly power, crushing everything in its way. The wind hissed violently as though warning the impending doom, and heat was rising all around him. Ignoring the cries of his friends not to disturb Aerith, Cloud jumped onto the platform and took a stance against the Calamity that was heading Aerith's way.

Then, thick black darkness swooped over the place, rendering even Mako-enhanced vision useless. Cloud did not ask exactly to which of his friends the ear-piercing screams and cries for help belonged. He knew only one thing. Sephiroth wanted Aerith and would have to fight Cloud first to get his hands on her. Sephiroth would be his, and nothing else mattered.

Silence reigned over soon enough, helping to clear his mind for the incoming assault. His heart was soaring, beating furiously in anticipation. The last thing that Sephiroth's mesmerizing gaze would behold would be his smiling face. That way, Sephiroth would remember him for eternity. Cloud Strife was not one to be simply discarded and forgotten.

The debilitating darkness was gone just as suddenly as it came, but the battle never came.

Instead, Cloud was to be a helpless spectator of a scene that no mortal should have been privileged to witness. If the Calamity came from above, the Goddess appeared from beneath. His control of his body gone, Cloud was floating in the air, like a puppet pulled from above by invisible strings. He would not have known who the tall glowing figure rising from the green lake truly was, had it not been for the awe in Aerith's eyes and a meek whisper. _Mistress_.

_It is not fair._ Cloud was screaming inside, hating the puppeteers who would not grant him his one wish. Sephiroth had to be defeated, but it was he who should be the one to bring the ex-General to his knees. Even the Planet had no right to defeat Sephiroth.

If he thought that was bad, things were about to become worse. Cloud should have died with the rest of Avalanche. They didn't live to see the uncaring nature of the Planet, the ultimate act of forsaking mankind.

Neither Sephiroth nor the Goddess showed any intention of engaging in battle. They were merely talking in a language that Cloud couldn't decipher. And if the growing horror in Aerith's expression was to be any indication, there was something definitely off in the nature of their communication. And then, something unthinkable happened.

The Calamity and the Planet embraced each other.

Avalanche fought and died for nothing. And if they fought for nothing, he was nothing. That meant Sephiroth was lost to him forever.

_Doesn't it?_

Then, why are the emerald eyes smiling at him? Why has the weight of despair left him?

_Emerald eyes?_ Cloud's mind finally begins to take in the appearance of the angel hovering over him, as a nurse would to a recovering patient. With thigh-length silver hair and cat-like eyes, Lelahel is the one who physically resembles Sephiroth most among all guardian angels. Except for the color of his eyelashes that match his hair and the pair of silver wings, it is hard to tell Lelahel from Sephiroth in his human form. But Cloud notices the difference soon enough, mainly because he does not feel the sense of traitorous contentment that Sephiroth's presence never fails to invoke in him.

The beautiful wings symbolize Lelahel's very being. Cloud already knows who Lelahel is even before the angel tells him. Sephiroth became God, and Lelahel is proof of it.

Cloud accepts Sephiroth's Godhood as reality, without bitterness or anger. Part of him feels dead, but after so many struggles to shun out the unfavorable outcome against humanity, the part deserves to be put to rest. No one suffered more from the Planet's rejection of her most brilliant species than he himself did. And now, if he chooses to feel indifferent about it all, who is going to question his loyalty? There was a war, and he fought it as diligently as anyone could, even though his motives were all wrong.

Even though he had no idea whose side he was actually serving.

The war is over. He survived it, and things have changed. He is no hero, because no one expects him to be and because the world no longer needs saving. The important point is he still has something to live for, even if he doesn't know exactly how he should live it. That realization makes him feel light, almost giddy. The heaviest part of him died, and yet how insubstantial that part turned out to be!

He wants to live, to leave behind all the years of confusion, anger and grief.

"I have to see Sephiroth," Cloud rasps. His throat feels unbearably dry, but his need to see Sephiroth is even greater than the need to quench his thirst. "Tell me what I need to do."


	11. Chapter 11

A.N. I'm of course dying to know what you will make of Cloud's reconciliation with Sephiroth. XD I believe this is the most logical outcome, given that Sephiroth became God in this story and I just hope you are not disappointed. A big Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read and review this fic. :) I hope you all know that your feedback does help in more than one ways.

Special thanks to my beta, xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique.

Reply to SephyRocks: Hi. :) I was happy to hear from you again and know that you still love the plot and my characterization of Sephiroth. Your enthusiasm is quite infectious and makes me smile. XD So, thank you for that.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

It was no trouble for Angeal to find the building assigned to Genesis. The landscape was uncomplicated, and he only needed to look for a stone-built structure that easily stood out from the vast field of blossoming flowers and sparsely populated trees. It only took him half an hour to fly from his own quarter, and for once he was grateful for having wings.

Now he is here, however, Angeal finds himself hesitating before Genesis' temporary abode. From outside, the building looks exactly the same as the place where he rested during the night. An image of a phoenix greets him at the door, climbing roses decorating and splashing colors onto the gray outer wall. He isn't sure, however, how his childhood friend will receive him.

It probably isn't a good sign that Genesis is still inside. The fiery ex-Commander must be brooding over something, and Angeal is at a loss what to say or how to conduct himself around Genesis. Sephiroth made their reunion easy. Unfortunately, it isn't Genesis' style.

Angeal shakes his head and muses with a slightly forced humor. _Some things never change._ He will just have to ride out the storm.

Inhaling the faint scent of vanilla imbued with cinnamon, Angeal scans the large room with half dread and half anticipation. Genesis stands next to a circular window behind a large bed, arms folded and legs slightly crossed. His gaze stubbornly remains downwards, as Angeal approaches him with slow measured steps.

"If I didn't know you better, I would presume you were suffering from a guilty conscience," Genesis quips, finally meeting Angeal's gaze with a mocking glee. "But of course, monsters feel no shame or guilt."

"Out with it, Genesis. What have I done now?"

"Just like that? Where would be the fun in that, dear _friend_? When you wounded my little heart, the least you can do is to figure out the reason yourself. Will you not agree?"

Angeal wants to laugh, turn around and walk out. _Do you really want to make it more difficult for both of us than necessary?_ He'd prefer Genesis throwing punches at him than the heavy tension in the air. He has seen his childhood friend in this mood many times, but he was there to comfort him. It is a new experience for him that he is the very focus of Genesis' fury. And though he half expected the scenario, the situation is even less pleasant than he anticipated. All that keeps him in the same room as Genesis is the glimpse of hurt in the icy blue eyes.

Then, something else catches his eye. Between strands of auburn hair, there is a bright glow of silver, a symbol that looks like the circular arrangement of wings. The scent of the room, the angel who looked so much like Genesis, and the mark on his friend's forehead. What does it all mean? Angeal almost forgets the fact that Genesis is waiting impatiently for his answer.

"I hadn't much time to reflect on my actions before death," he tries again. "If you were not happy with my cowardice…"

"Of course, we all know of your cowardice, but that's not what repels me most," Genesis cuts in, clearly unimpressed.

"Then what? Just tell me, Genesis. I will make it up to you."

"Oh, you will do more than just make it up to me," Genesis sneers, but decides that continuing his game will frustrate himself more than Angeal. Eyes narrowing in contempt, he blurts out. "You betrayed me with Zack!"

"And here I thought I betrayed Zack and Sephiroth with you," Angeal responds, feeling somewhat bitter. "Be more specific, Genesis. You lost me."

"You told the imbecile that _you_ should have finished me!"

Angeal bursts into laughter, though he isn't sure exactly why. He only knows he is laughing at himself more than at Genesis. He cannot stop even as a strong fist lands in his face followed by a swift kick in the chest that sends him flying across the room. He is laughing even as he can taste and smell the metallic tang of blood. It hurts to produce a sound, and yet the pain makes him feel even closer to Genesis. Because it means that he is alive - they both are. When he finally stops, the redhead is looming over him, frowning and fighting the desire to offer his hand.

The atmosphere is no longer heavy with an unspoken accusation.

Angeal could have said that they all said things they didn't mean. He could have reasoned that he would never have been able to harm Genesis. He could have explained he didn't know how to survive as a monster with human values. Or he could have simply explained that he didn't mean killing his friend when he told Zack he should have dealt with Genesis.

He chose not to make a single excuse. And he knows he made the right decision.

"I hurt you. Will you let me make things better?"

Genesis hesitates and then slowly smiles, finally extending his hand for the other to take. Angeal smiles back, cherishing the warmth that spreads through the contact.

The storm has passed.

* * *

Cool water caresses and soothes Cloud's burning skin, as he slowly submerges himself into the shallow depths of a stream. Scrubbing himself diligently with a wet cloth, Cloud looks at the face reflecting on the water's surface. He appears thinner overall, but his face is still disconcertingly round in shape. The boyish look, however much he hates it, has not deserted him.

_Your appearance is an asset. Do not neglect it._

Can it be true if an angel said so? Cloud was never confident about anything related to himself. How could he be? Confidence is often shaped and nurtured by others, and his quiet character was either ignored or frowned upon. No one in his hometown thought much of Cloud. Not even his mother told him that she was proud of him.

_I love you regardless._

That somehow was not good enough for him. All he ever wanted was to prove his worth, to be admired. He wanted to be like Sephiroth.

Or that's what he thought he wanted.

Everything changed when he saw Sephiroth for the first time. Cloud knew then that he didn't want anyone, not even himself, to be like Sephiroth. The silver-haired General was unique, and it seemed blasphemous even wanting to become like him.

All he wanted from then on was to be noticed by the great warrior. Even the burning town of Nibelheim could not quell his relentless obsession.

Sephiroth, Cloud's darkness and Cloud's light.

Cloud reaches for a large towel, lying next to a blue robe trimmed with golden stitches. Not far from it lies his past, a past that should not have been his - the Buster Sword.

Why was he so desperate to live up to dead people's expectation? What difference does it make to the dead? The dead leave the past behind. It is only the living who cannot break free.

Yet, he still wishes to live.

Because he has yet to explore what his traitorous longing has in store for him.

Cloud kneels down in front of Zack's sword, no longer feeling the need to apologize. He has no idea how to pray to God, whom he regarded as his archenemy not long ago. Clasping hands and closing eyes seem so irrelevant to the ceremony. Instead, he tries to concentrate on the connection between them, even if Sephiroth may not feel it half as strong as Cloud.

_If you see any worth in me, please answer._

It was the right thing to say. Sephiroth appears before him, instantly filling Cloud's senses with warmth and relief.

"You have my attention."

Cloud resists the temptation to look up, to meet the all-knowing gaze.

"I know I must begin again. But I don't know how to make myself worthy in your eyes. All I want and need is you, even if it sounds all pathetic and wrong."

"Not at all," Sephiroth replies, a smile tugging at his lips. Cloud has come a long way, and honesty is the least reward that he can bestow upon the youth.

"To know that you are the one and only focus of someone's existence is a special feeling, even for God. However, what I need from you is devotion, not obsession. Hostile feelings can co-exist with obsession, while they cannot with devotion. Obsession will stop at nothing, while devotion always considers its object first and foremost. The latter is as much a matter of conscious effort as that of emotion. Do you believe you can meet my requirements?"

Cloud swallows, searching his mind for an honest but acceptable answer.

"If it is a matter of will, I'll make myself devoted to you in time. If not, I'll ask for death by your own hand." Cloud lifts the Buster Sword with two hands and raises it above his head. "For now, I offer you this as a promise never to seek any harm on you."

"Your gesture is appreciated. It is also welcome, since I am in no need of a warrior."

Sephiroth takes the sword with one hand and offers the other for Cloud to hold. The blond reverently presses his lips against the soft skin, savoring the contact that makes everything right.

The future is still unknown, but Cloud Strife finally feels safe.


	12. Chapter 12

A big 'Thank you' to xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique and of course to everyone who has been encouraging me to write more. ^_^

Reply to Tyl: I am happy that you are still enjoying the fic. ^_^ I missed hearing from you. I try my best to imagine what Sephiroth would be like as God who evolved from a human. XD I just hope I made a decent job of it. Thank you for the generous review!

Reply to SephyRocks: Hi! Thank you for the review! I'm happy that you enjoyed the chapter. And yes, I tried to make their reconciliation as realistic as possible. It was lovely to know that it worked for you. :)

Note to Sadly disappointed:

I'm sorry that you are disappointed by the fic, but I'm actually surprised that you seemed to have read all eleven chapters, because it shouldn't have taken that long for you to conclude that the fic is just a glorified Ode to Sephiroth. XD However, my intention was to explore what it would have been like if FF7 producers allowed Sephiroth to become God for he nearly became God and was only defeated because he was never allowed to use his full abilities. You shouldn't have expected me not to make him out to be a God, when the summary obviously said Sephiroth became God. It would have defeated the object. Besides, he hardly needs any glorifying from his fan girl. His appearance, abilities, personalities, etc. are not my creation, and his name Sephiroth means 'ten aspects of God'. The character was created as a unique and strong individual (the producers said that they could not have created a stronger character), and pointing out or showing such aspects hardly counts as glorifying Sephiroth.

As for your accusation that I'm some hopelessly obsessed fangirl, I do not deny it. After all, why would anyone write about fics whose characters are not their own creation, less they find the characters fascinating and are obsessed enough to spare their free time for it? I'm not sure why you expected more. XD Your criticism would be valid only if I lost all objectivity because I was so smitten with Sephiroth. And I've already answered this point against your other criticism that my work is nothing but a glorified Ode to Sephiroth. I do appreciate you taking your time in telling me what you thought of my fic, but I hope that in future you will remember that feedback/reviews are supposed to be helpful if you wish to offer your insight to anyone else. I doubt that the author will endeavor to write something that deserves your approval if your feedback sounds like a downright attack on the integrity and intelligence of her writing. So well, it looks like the Ode to Sephiroth continues. XD

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Sephiroth's gaze lazily follows Genesis' lively expression as the redhead gives an account of his half-baked plans for the ex-citizens of Midgar. It is amusing to see Genesis stealing quick glances at him as if to seek assurance, while trying to impress Angeal with his vision for the community he is in charge of. The young God keeps his countenance inscrutable, but his posture is noticeably relaxed as the melodic voice continues to animate his idyllic surroundings.

They have been sitting on the lush grass, Sephiroth leaning his back against a tall tree and a little away from his two companions, one buzzing with enthusiasm and the other patiently waiting for his turn. The arrangement may seem coincidental, but in truth it is symbolic. Though they were close to each other, Sephiroth was alone even amongst his friends. Always had been and still is. Even more so than before. But that sense of solitude is an integrated part of him, and he likes to keep things that way.

Their connection has survived the conflicts that tore them apart, and even though their relationship lacks the innocent naivete it once enjoyed, there is an unmistakable joy and appreciation that comes only from finding what has been lost. And looking at Genesis, who is doing his best to seduce his audience with his usual elegance and charm, and Angeal, who is busy trying to decipher the meanings behind the dazzling play, it is hard to believe all that bitter despair they felt for themselves and each other.

"So, let me recapture your ideas in crude simplicity. You want a free education system, a permanent ban on owning animals and suitable measures for population control," Angeal surmises, having taken his time to think over Genesis' lengthy monologue despite the impatient look from the redhead.

Genesis huffs: he will never know how Angeal manages to find such uninspiring terms for his beautiful ideals. He spoke of keeping pace with the spirit of Gaia, of the brotherly love and respect towards all her creatures and of celebrating life through living its full potential. He proposed grand values that should inspire even the least romantically inclined, and Angeal just had to make it sound all so dull and tame.

"For now, yes, though your clarification certainly doesn't sound as inspiring," Genesis affirms reluctantly, his tone a little too condescending for Angeal's liking.

"You want me to communicate your ideas to the community. It is a language they understand and I feel comfortable with."

"Fine, if you think that helps," Genesis concedes with a defeated sigh, pouting at the fact that the world is full of philistines and probably always will be. It is, however, hardly Angeal's fault that his poetic visions have to be translated into tasteless practical terms. "Any questions?"

"Population control will be a delicate matter, Genesis. They could see it as an infringement on their free will."

"Every creature on Gaia has free will," Genesis retorts. "Any creature who favors one outcome to another is endowed with it; they only differ in their power and scope to exercise their will. Or perhaps the extent of what they may or may not will. Even a pack of wolves is intelligent enough not to breed in hard times. Maintaining an acceptable level of population is not a violation of free will. In fact, it is the exact opposite; such control is only possible through free will that is empowered by the knowledge of alternative outcomes."

Angeal does not point out that Genesis' subjects are hardly starved. He has promised Genesis that he would make things better between them. Though he'd rather leave the settlement well alone, he will have to make good on his word. His loyalty now clearly lies with Sephiroth and Genesis. And it is good to be certain about things for once.

"What I need to know, Genesis, is how we are to go about such a policy. Are we going to make the use of contraceptives compulsory for instance? Or are we going to merely encourage education and self-development?"

"For your peace of mind, I will not have grown up men and women rounded up and given a mandatory injection," the redhead assures, smiling mischievously at the image of Tseng grimacing at the issue of such an order. He has the power of course, and though he has no desire to make use of it in such an absurd way, it is still good to know that he has it. "You can discuss practical issues with Tseng. He is in charge of the community security."

Trusting Angeal understands his intentions well enough, the ex-Commander turns his attention to Sephiroth, unconsciously licking his lips with nervous anticipation. His performance on this occasion has been for the young God, and though he knows better than to expect applause, he needs Sephiroth's blessing more than that of his Goddess. Rubbing his palm against the cool grass, Genesis searches the impassive face for any sign of endorsement.

"I believe Angeal can work on the details, designing effective policies and practices with Tseng's help. That is, if my ideas meet your approval."

Sephiroth does not give his answer immediately, merely watching and enjoying Genesis' hopeful albeit a little anxious expression. Genesis already knows that his God will not oppose him. The mark on his forehead shines brightly, and the redhead understands that Sephiroth will not go back on his word. Genesis is seeking for more than confirmation of his right to rule over the surviving human race. In order for his plans to work, the chosen land must be free of natural disasters.

Whether the humans will be able to adapt to the system of Genesis' design is of little consequence to the human and Jenova God. Nevertheless, the experiment will certainly have entertainment value as well as providing both Genesis and Angeal with a useful experience.

"They are yours, Genesis. We have already established that much. As for their fate, I remain indifferent."

A thoughtful pause. Genesis inhales sharply and holds his breath until Sephiroth speaks again somewhat dryly but firmly.

"I offer my protection, however, on three conditions, and it will last as long as you desire and need it. First, your loyalty will lie with me above all things. Second, the human population will not increase more than three times its current size. Third, the truth concerning Mother will be told and accepted as such. The last requirement is not optional on my gift; it shall be implemented regardless as a solemn token of your devotion to me. Do you accept?"

The redhead can hardly suppress a triumphant smile spreading from the corners of his lips. The only difficulty he can see is he himself has no idea who or what Jenova really is. But that little problem can be easily remedied: he is after all in the company of someone who possesses the necessary knowledge.

"With or without your precious gift, I remain devoted to you and your wishes."

"I do not doubt it. Camael is waiting for you in your quarter. He will inform you of anything you need to know regarding Mother," Sephiroth concludes with a slow smile and stands, calling Genesis and Angeal closer to him before teleporting away the beaming redhead.

Angeal watches with mixed emotions as Sephiroth summons the Buster Sword. The past has a habit of catching up with him when he least expects it. So much memory is attached to the sword, but whatever he feels about seeing it again, Angeal is certain he should have taken it with him to the grave. It was part of who he was, and when he passed it to Zack, he was unwittingly asking his pupil to live his dream. Worse, he was condoning what Zack had done to him, not realizing where it would eventually lead. Zack did not kill Angeal simply because he was asked to by his mentor; he was frightened of what Angeal was becoming – a monster. No wonder he attacked Sephiroth from behind; Angeal had given his implicit blessing for such an act.

"I have no use for this. It is yours if you want it."

The ex-Soldier runs his palm over the broad blade, grimacing as the unfeeling steel reminds him not of the pride as a warrior but of the shame of his thoroughly cowardly act. He will accept it, however, simply because no one else should have it. Each and every man must carry his own burden till the end and bury it with him upon death. He will keep the sword as a reminder for the simple truth.

Angeal wants to speak about Zack, to explain why he did what he did, but Sephiroth stops him, placing one hand firmly on the raven-haired man's shoulder.

"It was his choice to live in a way in which he thought you would approve. He could have refused to kill you, remember that."

Angeal nods meekly; it is too early to dwell on old wounds. He certainly doesn't wish to do so in front of Sephiroth.

"I haven't really given you a homecoming present. I have something you might like, however."

Angeal's eyes widen as he watches a large black dog materializes in front of him. Its long coat is mangled and has lost its shine, but there is an inexplicable familiarity about the animal. He likes it almost immediately. And the feeling seems to be mutual. Having shaken its head to clear off the confusion, the dog sniffs the air once, twice, and without hesitation lunges at Angeal, licking him all over.

"Jeliel has a habit of collecting strays, though this one I had found," Sephiroth explains. "He needs grooming and someone to look after him. What do you say?"

Angeal mutters a thank you with a huge smile, holding the animal's head with his hands and rubbing his forehead on the dark fur. Technically, he cannot own the animal, but if the dog follows him around of its free will, Genesis shouldn't be able to object. If there is one thing Angeal cannot have from Sephiroth or Genesis, it is unreserved carefree affection. It was what Zack Fair had in abundance.

"The dog reminds you of someone, does he not?" Sephiroth asks once the dog calms down, stroking the animal's long neck in a slow circular motion. "The Zack Fair we know has died, but his soul lives on in the world of the living without his memories."

"You mean…" With half disbelief and half amazement, Angeal looks at the contented animal who, upon hearing his voice, wags its tail enthusiastically. Zack was reincarnated into a dog? Was he wrong to assume that human souls were born into humans?

"He is and he isn't," Sephiroth replies cryptically, a faint smile playing on his lips. "When a soul is reborn, it does not have memories of its previous life. Instead it is born with collective memories of the species. Can the self retain its identity without at least some of its memories surviving? However, it won't do his soul any harm to live a loyalty that transcends the boundary of the species."

Angeal is almost glad that Genesis is not privy to the revelation. The redhead would struggle to suppress a hysterical laughter and tease the poor animal mercilessly. For himself, he is happy to have his former pupil back in the least threatening form. This Puppy will never dream of betraying Sephiroth, and the ex-General seems perfectly at ease with the reincarnated Zack.

"When do you intend to send us away to the settlement?" Angeal asks, strapping the Buster Sword to his back.

"I intend to keep both of you here for a couple of weeks. After that, Genesis can get on with his pet project."

"So soon?"

"You will be periodically called back. We will see." Sephiroth assures and adds as though an afterthought. "Keep him at your side. He has yet to learn how to behave in the Promised Land."

The ex-General pats the dog on the head and takes his leave, disappearing into a burst of hot white light that dissipates and simmers a while in the air. Zack immediately pounces into action, chasing and pawing the trail of the thinning light.

"Well, Zack," Angeal addresses his Puppy, grinning. "It looks like I will just have to train you all over again."


	13. Chapter 13

A big Thank you to my beta, xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique and everyone who has taken time to read and review this fic. :)

Note to SephyRocks: Hi there again. :) Thank you as always for your enthusiastic support and compliment on my portrayal of Sephiroth. I also love it that you liked Zack's return, and yes I'm pretty sure he will love a hug from you. ^_^ Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

How does one go about making himself devoted to his former enemy? Cloud isn't entirely sure, but he figures that he can start by faithfully following Lelahel's instructions. The angel speaks for Sephiroth in his absence, thereby providing the guidance the blond needs. For now, to endeavor to please his God is all he can do.

But how do you please someone who already has everything? Is that even achievable when nothing you can offer will make any difference to his existence?

Cloud still does not know how to answer the question, except a resolution that whatever task is given to him he will pour his heart and soul into it. By committing himself to each and every assignment, he may eventually learn to give of his very self without expecting anything in return, to make his God's will as his own. If devotion is what Sephiroth wants, devotion is what Sephiroth will have. He will give his all for anything that brings him closer to him.

Lelahel has brought Cloud to a spacious house at the foot of a mountain, where snow has begun to melt and streams swell with the arrival of spring. Surrounded by tall broad-leaved trees, the generously sized building is well concealed from prying eyes and is powered by its own generator. The windows are impressively large to catch any natural light that should filter through the large leaves and thick branches of the ominous looking trees. According to Lelahel, Sephiroth bought the house before the Nibelheim mission and the eggshell white walls and complete lack of ornaments seem to reflect his minimalist taste.

The layout of the house is rather unusual: the ground floor, apart from its streamline design and striking black furniture, seems ordinary enough with a functional kitchen, a large living room and three good sized bedrooms, each with its own en-suite bathroom. The upstairs is, however, just one huge empty space. Or it was when Lelahel showed it on the previous evening.

On the hard floor piles of books are scattered around, some thick and others thin and almost all of them worn with age. Shifting his gaze, Cloud warily eyes lumps of hardwood and various woodworking tools in the corner opposite the door. Light plumes of dust dance in the air as Cloud approaches Lelahel standing in the middle of the room with a thick volume in his hand.

"Do you know much about carpentry?"

Cloud shakes his head and ventures hopefully. "I will learn if you will teach me."

"The skill is a must since you will build a library for my lord. I do not possess the craft since it is of no use to me. However, this book should tell you everything that you need to know."

The blond's expression falls as he examines the cover of the book Lelahel hands to him. He doesn't even have to open it to know that it is written in an incomprehensible language, flowing signs that make no sense to him. Lelahel's lips curl to a smile at the dejected look, but Cloud isn't sure whether his God will humor him the same way. He cannot afford failure: he wants to see the same smile on Sephiroth's lips.

"The content mostly consists of drawings, Cloud, and it shouldn't be too difficult to carve out book shelves," Lelahel informs him, causing Cloud to blush. "In any case, you will learn how to read and write the scripts of the Ancients, since all of these books are written in this language and you will have to organize them."

Nodding happily, Cloud opens the thick black book and finds that the pictures, though the lines are somewhat faded, are perfectly legible. Excitement begins to swell in his heart at the thought of creating a room in which the ex-General will indulge himself in the pleasure of reading scripts. Except this time there will be no earth-shattering discovery that will throw him into turmoil. Cloud can picture Sephiroth comfortably seated on a chaise longue, flicking through leaf after leaf of a book with an intent gaze and a ghost of a smile on his lips. Cloud building a library for Sephiroth will symbolize the true extent of their reconciliation - a perfect project even though the blond is certain that it would take next to no time for Sephiroth to build it himself. Or for that matter, Sephiroth would not need a book to absorb the knowledge of the living and the dead.

"We will need to discuss your daily routine," Lelahel interrupts Cloud's musings. "Your time will be divided between looking after yourself, keeping the property in good order, self-improvement, a given task and sleep. My lord does not wish you to neglect any of them. How you divide it is up to you, however. Work out your own schedule. I will visit you every day and spend a few hours to teach you the language of the Ancients until you become fluent in the tongue."

The word routine implies normality. Cloud has to ponder how long he has been without it; he has been chasing the enigma of Sephiroth as he would chase a star in the night sky, hopeless and yet unwavering. He did not even notice the world around him had collapsed. He does not even know what this New World is like, and yet he scarcely cares for it. He does not wonder what happened to Aerith; he will learn to see the world and everything in it through the eyes of Sephiroth. Until then, it has little meaning to his life, just as the Old World is dead to him.

Cloud is the survivor by the grace of Sephiroth. And he is determined to turn the curse into a blessing. He isn't sure what he has done to deserve the special treatment from Sephiroth, what sets him apart from the rest of mankind. It does not, however, stop him from taking advantage of their incomprehensible connection. He has been relentless in his pursuit of the ex-General, his heart never giving up even in the face of seemingly impossible obstacles, and that has to count for something.

Opportunities come not to the most deserving but to the most persistent.

* * *

It was a glow of light in the depths of darkness that attracted Tseng to Aerith's tent. Most people were asleep as candles were scarce and there was no electricity. A few people patrolled the area, partly out of habit and partly to prevent people from stealing from each other. There was no need for Tseng to take up the duty, but the night breeze and sparkling sky were too tempting to miss.

Tseng previously of course had no intention to visit her late at night. He wasn't even sure exactly what he wanted with Aerith. But the light coming from Aerith's tent was too bright to be treated as candlelight; curiosity silenced any inner debate on the appropriateness of such a call.

Nearer the tent, Tseng hears a familiar fit of giggling and takes it as a sign that she has a visitor. He turns away, but not fast enough to miss a smooth tenor voice. It is a lovely voice, except that it means Aerith's visitor is a man. And even though Tseng knows he has no right to feel angry, he cannot feel but somewhat betrayed.

"Tseng?"

Aerith's voice stops him from sneaking away, as if he never intended to drop by.

"You have a visitor."

Tseng winces at the accusing tone in his voice – most people would not even notice, but he is a Turk and he can. It is ridiculous: she is merely a girl and she has the right to invite anyone she likes at whichever time.

"It's only Jeliel. And he's just left."

"I didn't see him leaving."

This time Tseng manages better, his tone flat and factual. Aerith merely laughs.

"Jeliel can teleport, you know. He is an angel."

It all suddenly makes sense. Sure enough, the bright light has vanished from the tent.

"I was merely curious about the light. I apologize for interrupting your meeting."

"You weren't smiling."

"Excuse me?"

"You know you weren't smiling before. I wonder why."

"Aerith, I rarely smile."

"But it's nice to see you smile. Do you want to come in?"

Aerith does not wait for the answer, heading back to the tent with light steps. Tseng follows her in and watches her lighting the one candle in her possession. The tent is not a large one, a single mattress occupying a third of the available space. When they sit on large cushions across each other, Tseng cannot help but feel conscious of his close proximity to Aerith.

"So, it is true that Sephiroth became a God," Tseng begins. "What was his message?"

"Genesis will be back within two weeks. The rest, you will hear from your leader when he returns."

"So it was Sephiroth who took Genesis."

"More like he was summoned, you know," Aerith offers her interpretation of the event. "I think it's good that he takes interest in your leader."

"I suppose they have a long history, and not all good."

Awkward silence follows. Then, a barely audible murmur. "Not all sons pay for their father's sins."

Aerith studies the Turk's face with apprehension. "You are not… against him, I hope."

Tseng smiles at the honest expression. "What difference does it make what I think of him now? I'm sure he isn't the least interested in my opinions of him. But if you still want to know, I never stopped respecting him even when I saw him as the enemy of Shinra and mankind. I just find it ironic that with Sephiroth it was the rest of mankind who had to pay for his father's reckless experiments."

"Hojo wasn't quite Sephiroth's father. It sounds crazy, but Sephiroth was his own father."

"That is not biologically possible, as far as I know."

"When Jenova died, she was with a child, whom she named Sephiroth. Hojo didn't take Jenova's cell; what he injected into Lucrecia was the cell of Jenova's unborn child. And when those cells merged, all Hojo's biological influence was wiped out. Even Sephiroth's soul is the same as that of Jenova's son who never had a chance at life. Sephiroth was just as much of an Ancient as I was."

Tseng bursts into a bitter laughter. First, the scientists thought Jenova was an Ancient. Then, they came to conclude that it was all just a big misunderstanding. And now, the first assumption turned out right after all. How fickle truth becomes in human hands.

The laughter dies out, as a pair of large emerald eyes searches the Turk's face intently. They do not sparkle with their usual friendliness. There is intensity that looks too much like desire.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Aerith?"

The half-Cetra fidgets, looking away and playing with the rim of her skirts. "I only kissed once, and it was just a chaste kiss. So, I was hoping… I mean…"

Aerith doesn't have time to ponder the dark glint in his eyes, as hot lips descend upon her willing mouth, demanding and probing. She parts her lips gladly, grateful that she didn't have to finish her embarrassing request. His embrace solid and his moves confident, Tseng slowly takes her into a world she has yet to experience, a world she might never have experienced. If she dies tomorrow, she will still have one less regret, because she will know the intoxicating feel of being so close to someone and tasting one more precious gift from the Planet.

Aerith knows she is becoming a woman, because she is no longer afraid of being abandoned.

* * *

The night is long, and Genesis feels much too hot with unquenchable desire. Sephiroth has yet to visit him, and though he knows his standing with his former friend perfectly well, he cannot but feel a little neglected. He is a guest after all, and the Promised Land does not offer much entertainment. Considering the fact that he will be sent away in less than two weeks' time, shouldn't Sephiroth seek his company every night? It may be a little different for God whose life is not limited by the constraint of time, but Genesis is still mortal and isn't going to stay young forever. Not when he has to spend much of his time away from the land of everlasting life and youth.

Since he cannot afford arguing with God, Genesis decides to cool his mood by taking a walk. Perhaps the haunting beauty of the night sky may give him the solace he needs. It is not long before Genesis finds an ideal spot for stargazing. Leaning against a large tree, the redhead absorbs the dazzling views above him. The stars look closer in the Promised Land, and yet he knows it is merely a deception. The beauty of stars is illusory, as many are merely giant rocks that support no life. Nevertheless, there is truth to be found in their existence. They, like Gaia, are alone – so utterly alone in the vastness of the universe. Breaking off that solitude only ever means one thing for the stars: death.

"How can you bear it?" Genesis asks ruefully, as a strong arm encircles his waist. "How can anyone endure immortality? Even with her limited life span, Gaia spends much of her time sleeping."

"If my life is confined in this Planet, her example shall be mine, too. As it happens, the universe is vast, forever evolving and as boundless as time."

"Hmm." Genesis smiles, savoring the comforting heat that radiates from the other. He may be a mortal, but he will never be merely a mortal, as long as he lives in the memory of God. "Do you not miss the prospect of failure and death? Isn't that what makes success that much sweeter and turns life into something much more precious?"

"You mean others' failures and others' deaths, Genesis. For you could not stand the contemplation of either when it concerned you," Sephiroth observes, somewhat amused. "Do you not wish to live long enough to see what becomes of your project?"

"I suppose so, if I can hold my interest that long," the redhead replies playfully and tilts his head backward to rest it on Sephiroth's shoulder. "Would I be part of your life when you wish to travel the universe?"

Sephiroth has to smile at the question, though he does not give an answer. Genesis can be devoted, but never without his own agenda. What the redhead does not know is that he can already travel the universe even without Sephiroth, connecting stars without destroying them. It took the Planet two thousand years to figure out that Jenova, after her transformation, had the ability. There was no need for the Black Materia: Jenova could have simply destroyed a meteoroid outside the Planet. So could Sephiroth. Genesis, Angeal and Cloud lacked the power to destroy a meteoroid of significant size, but any of them could survive in space without precious oxygen. Jenova and her children were Gaia's key to extending her power outside the Planet.

Genesis will have his adventure one day, but first he will have to fulfill his own destiny. The redhead's destiny was not to become a hero, but to bear a new beginning for mankind. Perhaps, just perhaps, this time humans will learn from the redhead's insight into Gaia's motives behind her ruthless cleansing. They will have to understand that the Planet's values are not the same as those of her children: while her children strive for their own survival, the Planet is concerned with the proportional balance of different species.


	14. Chapter 14

A.N. I didn't think I could post this today. So a big thank you to my lovely beta, xlightfromabovex, for getting back to me in time despite all her other commitments. And thank you as always to all those who took their time to read and review. That of course includes you SephyRocks. It was lovely to hear from you again and your reviews make me happy too. ^_^ Honestly, nothing makes me happier than to know that someone is enjoying my portrayal of Sephiroth. He is the very reason I'm writing this fic. XD

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Lying gracefully on his side, his head resting on a propped elbow, Genesis throws a disdainful glance at Angeal's Puppy who, having happily ripped apart and chewed off an offered pillow, lies contentedly by his guardian's feet.

It is not that the dog showed absolutely no interest in the redhead after just one sniffing, though Genesis seems to be the only thing that the dog has dismissed so quickly. It took Angeal's Puppy some time to realize that there was absolutely no point in chasing other animals in the Promised Land. They simply refused to panic and run, taking out all the fun on the Puppy's part. All that such endeavors earned him was a low growling sound of displeasure from his new friend. Genesis had to admit that Angeal would make a good parent, effortlessly mixing gestures of affection with just the right amount of discipline. The dog could not be seen to be so badly behaving despite its boisterous nature. Still, Genesis found himself not liking its presence.

During his time in Soldier, Genesis had worked with war dogs and learned how intelligent those animals could be. Their cunning ability to understand and communicate with humans made a lasting impression. He therefore has nothing against dogs in general. But this particular animal is a different matter altogether. It isn't even jealousy that bothers him. Genesis can be petty at times, but he is not _so_ petty to hold a grudge against an animal for having to share his friend's attention. No, the problem lies in the fact that the Puppy reminds him of someone he would rather forget.

_Zack Fair_.

Unlike Angeal or even Sephiroth to a lesser extent, Genesis saw absolutely nothing admirable in Angeal's pupil. Zack's loyalty was spread so thin and was so applicable to almost everyone that it was hardly worth securing. His blatant disrespect for poetic visions and mythical prophecies made the ex-Soldier the last person Genesis wanted to converse with. Zack Fair could fight rather well, and that was about it. A useful subordinate to have around in war, but by no means someone the redhead wanted to include in his close circle of friends.

The real issue is, however, not his dislike for the spiky-haired imbecile of a Soldier. It is how he, in his desperate attempt to cure his degenerating body, tried to replace Angeal and Sephiroth with Zack and Cloud. All because he had to recreate the scenario of Loveless till he got it right, till it served his purpose. He even shared Banora apples with them willingly, describing his meeting with them as a reunion of sorts between three friends. He didn't just betray his friends: he betrayed their very memories as well.

Does Sephiroth know?

Genesis falls on his back, covering his face with both hands and thereby attracting a curious glance from his friend. He has nearly forgotten about the event, but its effect on Sephiroth's pride cannot be positive. Damn Zack Fair. Why did he go and find the apples? Damn himself. He was just so bitter about Sephiroth rejecting his apple, rejecting his most innocent dream. He was determined to fulfill it even without Sephiroth.

"What is wrong? I know you don't like Zack, but…"

"Nothing." Genesis flutters his hand as if waving off Angeal's concern. Soon, however, the implication of his friend's words registers in his mind, causing him to look at the Puppy with a wicked grin. "You named him Zack? How fitting. Fair should be impressed."

"Nothing?" Angeal raises one eyebrow, ignoring Genesis's comment on the Puppy's name.

Genesis gracefully lifts himself into a sitting position with a weary sigh.

"Do you sometimes wish you had done things a little differently?"

"We make mistakes. We learn and move on," replies Angeal comfortingly. Then, after a pause. "Is this about Sephiroth?"

"I was the very cause of Sephiroth's turn against mankind, for even destiny requires a little helping hand. A push, to be more precise, since he had a choice to shun his path. The irony of it all is that I never knew how closely our fates were linked, but I played my part nevertheless in Sephiroth fulfilling his destiny. Even though I had no idea that it was the exact prerequisite for effectuating my own."

Angeal merely nods his understanding. Genesis' encounter with Sephiroth in Nibelheim could not have been pleasant for either of them. Genesis was hurting, and when the redhead hurt, he preferred not to suffer alone.

"I don't regret what I told Sephiroth. He had the right to know; it was the truth he was searching for all his life. But my motives for telling him were not so admirable. The way I handled the whole thing, I could and should have done better. Only I didn't."

"But he has forgiven you, hasn't he? You mean more to him than anyone else. The mark on your forehead…"

"He may have forgiven, but he will not forget. We cannot change the past," Genesis concludes rather abruptly, signaling his wish to discontinue the talk. At Angeal's concerned look, however, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. "I owe you an apology as well."

"Oh?"

"I shared Banora apples with Zack and Cloud."

Understanding dawns on Angeal. He cannot speak for Sephiroth, but he can for himself.

"Consider yourself forgiven."

* * *

Cloud's eyes are fixed on one particular symbol as he wipes away the dust gathered on the thin volume in his hand. A week has flown by since his new life began, and he has been much occupied with his tight schedule. It hasn't taken him long to learn how to cut the wood to the desired size, prepare and stain the wood, and to cut off mortices on both sticks and shelves. Another week and the shelving units should all be ready to fill the entire length of wall opposite a large window. If he were allowed to neglect his exercise, sleep and household chores, it would probably take much less time.

Progress in organizing books into files of similar subject has been slower. Though Lelahel began their language lessons with the titles of the collected books, they alone could not provide adequate insight into the content. From the angel's dismissal of Cloud's request to explain the subject matter, the blond can only suppose that his learning of the Ancient's language is as much part of Sephiroth's intention as the explicit task of building the library.

Of course Cloud has been diligent in his learning, trying to draw and redraw in his mind every symbol he assimilated whenever he had an opportunity. But the particular symbol he is looking at tells him that something is amiss. He is not progressing as fast as he can.

Dream

Narrowing his eyes, the blond examines the symbol again, which looks rather like the shape of a passkey.

Dream is a key?

In a sense, the answer seems positive. His dreams have been a path to self-discovery. But what can his dreams offer in the daunting task of learning a language that is so alien to him?

_Alien. Jenova. No not an alien. She was an Ancient, with an alien power._

And that means she could read and write the language. Cloud's eyes widen at the realization. He has Jenova's memory, and that implies he should know the still unfamiliar symbols.

"Not all of her memory. However, you are learning."

Cloud's heart skips a beat. The voice may sound just like that of Lelahel, but the tingling warmth flooding his body tells him otherwise. Before the blond can greedily take in every feature of his walking dream, however, Sephiroth tells him to close his eyes. When Cloud does so, he sees the image of his heart being securely held in Sephiroth' palm, alive, beating and completely at the mercy of his former nemesis.

"Focus on one object at a time until the image changes into an equivalent symbol."

The heart leaves the palm, loses its color, and rearranges its shape until it turns into an arch that resembles an ocean wave. Without being told, Cloud is certain that he has projected the right symbol. Feeling elated, he experimentally pictures a palm, succeeds in translation, and then moves onto the motion of stroking. Having converted all three images into corresponding Ancient symbols, Cloud waits for further instruction, his heart welling in pride and anticipation.

"Permission to open your eyes granted."

A faint smile that has reached the glowing emerald eyes is to be Cloud's reward, however brief. For the first time, Cloud feels like he reached out and actually managed to touch Sephiroth and not the empty air. There is something inside him that attracts Sephiroth, beside his relentless obsession. It always has been since he turned into Hojo's plaything. Only now, however, he begins to believe it.

And the newly found confidence rises further when Sephiroth slowly raises his hand to Cloud's lips. The blond leans to the touch, smiling beneath the open palm with complete abandon. Sephiroth, however, draws back all too soon, leaving Cloud thirstier than before.

"You should now begin your lunch preparation," Sephiroth informs him offhandedly, as if dismissing the boy from his presence. Cloud's spontaneous response is casting his eyes downward to hide his disappointment, plump lips tightly pressed together to prevent a sigh. The reaction – in its unabashedly feminine demeanor - amuses the ex-General. At the same time, it provides an explanation of sorts as to why Cloud had been ostracized in his hometown. And, for that matter, why he was so desperate to adopt Zack's personality as his own. In the end, Sephiroth decides he likes what he has seen, as long as no one else is privileged to the sight.

"Will you fix me something to eat as well?"

Cloud snaps up his half-bowed head, and when his confused gaze meets a slight nod from Sephiroth, all traces of doubt leave the youth, turning his expression into undiluted joy. It is oddly touching to see a face so unguarded, when the said face belongs to a youth who can be by no means described as naïve, who has seen too much to be trusting. Touching because he knows this side of Cloud is indisputably reserved for Sephiroth and Sephiroth alone.

_So very vulnerable_.

Yet, Cloud's vulnerability is also his strength, since it comes from an understanding of his true desire. It is neither reckless nor foolish because taking calculated risks is a necessary part of achieving a goal. And sometimes, investing all of oneself into a single objective is the only way to get the desired result.

Sephiroth himself could not have fulfilled his grand purpose without single-minded dedication. He was however aware of the likely consequences of his failure. Had his attempt to become God been overthrown, the humans would have taken great pleasure in seeing him fall. Had he suffered the misfortune of being captured alive, they would have delighted in making a public spectacle out of his defeat. Those who are destined for greater things either rise above everyone else or become crushed and trampled upon.

Sephiroth simply had to win. And so, it seems, does Cloud.


	15. Chapter 15

A.N. I cannot believe this fic is still going, when it was originally intended to be around nine chapters, at most. I just hope it's not going to be longer than it should be. A big Thank you to my beta, xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique and everyone who have been reading and taking time to give me feedback. :)

Note to Tyl: It's great to have you back. ^_^ I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, but am happy to hear that my story has somewhat cheered you up. I get rather grumpy when I am without my computer, so I do sympathize. Cloud is in some sense like a newborn baby at the moment. After so much denial as to who he is and what he wants, he is finally on the road to self-discovery, but the only connection that he has to the new world, the only thing that makes him want to live, is Sephiroth. Hence, I think it is a little understandable that he wants to trust the source that binds him to his new life. And yes, babies' vulnerability can also be their strength. So, thank you for noticing the sentence. ^_^ Hope you will enjoy this chapter as well.

Note to SephyRocks: Aww, thank you! And yes, I hate it too that the game does not allow Sephiroth to use his full power. I'm afraid that no game will allow the antagonist to win, no matter how powerful – it's all the producers' fault. But that is why I'm writing this fic, and I'm happy to see that you are still following and enjoying the story. ^_^

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

"Umm. This place looks nice," Aerith declares cheerfully, having followed reluctant Cloud around for a little tour. "And you look good, Cloud. Are you happy here?"

Cloud nods his head. He isn't sure why Sephiroth allowed the half Cetra to visit him, but considering how appallingly he treated the pretty brunette, he feels obliged to answer her. Besides, the sooner he convinces her that all is well with him, the earlier she will take her leave, enabling him to get on with his library project.

"You let your hair loose."

Aerith smiles at the lame attempt, the first comment Cloud made all afternoon. Her friend seems very much disinterested in what the human settlement is like or how she is doing there. Seating herself down on the nearest couch, Aerith twirls her fingers around her long hair.

"I think I've grown up a little. You?"

Cloud merely shrugs and then adds as an afterthought. "I changed."

"You let go of the past?"

With a defeated sigh, Cloud slumps into the chair opposite Aerith. She isn't going to leave anytime soon.

"The past has let me go. There was nothing left for me there."

The mountain boy who desperately wanted to make it into Soldier died in the Nibelheim mansion. After absorbing the Jenova cells, he wasn't even a human. In Genesis' terms, he became a monster, and his human values ferociously fought and opposed his acceptance of his new self. Through all his struggles, he was dying little by little, for no one who cannot accept who they are truly lives. He was turning into a puppet, either that of Sephiroth or that of Zack's ghost. A puppet, because he never understood who he was. When Sephiroth wasn't pulling his strings, it was the memory of Zack that dictated his moves. The only part of him that was his own was his incessant yearning for Sephiroth.

"So there is something in the present?" Aerith masks her pity with a teasing tone. It couldn't have been easy for Cloud to change. It was difficult for her, and she was a half Cetra, given to the Planet for her bidding.

Cloud drops his head to hide the blush that is creeping over his face. Priestess or not, he isn't about to confess to Aerith about his unholy obsession with Sephiroth. He isn't going to tell her that he is having dreams about his former nemesis. Nor is he going to let her know that he could not take his eyes off Sephiroth's exquisitely curved mouth during their brief meal together. He has no idea why girls try demeaning their feelings by talking about them. Emotions are private and should stay that way. Besides, his relationship with Sephiroth is really none of Aerith's business.

"I am happier than before," Cloud says curtly, and decides to change the subject. He was never comfortable talking about himself. That somehow has not changed. "What exactly does a priestess do in the survivors' camp?"

"I love healing and comforting, you know," Aerith answers, not at all discouraged by Cloud's lack of interest in the conversation. "I only have little wishes, such as one small wish to know that we are good. It doesn't take much to make me content."

"I am sorry about how I treated you before. I was wrong. But I couldn't see how I could be wrong." Cloud makes his belated apology, hoping he didn't hurt her feelings too badly at the time. Though he doesn't believe anything can leave a permanent scar on Aerith's happy disposition.

"I think … I was wrong about him as well," Aerith quietly whispers. "You see, I thought he hated everything and everyone. I didn't realize his anger was temporary. I took his ruthlessness in pursuing his objective as hatred for all that is human. I didn't understand it was the human values that turned him against mankind."

"Huh?"

"See … humans believe they have this right to rule the Planet as they see fit because they are stronger and smarter than all other creatures on the Planet. When Sephiroth discovered that he belonged to a race superior to humans, that he had been deceived by them and that his race had been betrayed by them, it was that very human value that convinced him of his right to rule the Planet and disregard human life. He was never a human, but was raised with human values. And the values that served mankind so well in the past backfired on them, because Sephiroth could not discard them even when he realized he was not a human."

Cloud realizes he has been leaning forward, genuinely interested in Aerith's thoughts. He smiles warmly, beginning to relax in her company. He is glad that she is trying to understand Sephiroth in her own way, because it means she is not opposing his choice.

"You've really thought about it, haven't you?"

Aerith nods thoughtfully before carrying on.

"I had to make my peace with Gaia. She doesn't care like you or I, not in the same way and not with feelings. What she cares about is different too. But she would never have embraced Sephiroth's ambition, had his goal been the destruction of the Planet itself. He was never blinded so much by hatred that he forgot who he was or what his path was."

"Sometimes I feel like I know him better than anyone else. Other times, not at all."

At one stage, Cloud thought he knew everything about Sephiroth that he needed to know, even though his personal experience with Sephiroth was extremely limited. The ex-General was his enemy, and you only needed to learn your foe's strengths and weaknesses. Even that limited picture of Sephiroth, however, came mostly from secondhand accounts - mainly Zack's observations. His encounters with the silver-haired elite were rather confusing, always intensely emotional. But it was also true that he understood his former enemy in a way no one else did.

Cloud's first encounter with Sephiroth was utterly inconspicuous on the ex-General's part. He stood at a distance, while the powerful man was talking with Zack Fair. But he could sense something fascinating about Sephiroth that his raven-haired friend never seemed to notice. Sephiroth looked completely alone, even though Zack claimed that his superior considered him a friend. But that loneliness had nothing to do with his awkwardness in dealing with Zack's ramblings. It was the solitude of a lion among a flock of sheep he was thrown into, a lion that believed he was and yet was not one of their kind. Cloud felt like he had seen a part of Sephiroth that no one else was privileged to see.

"He is not easy to understand. I don't think even those whom he held dear knew him all that well. And umm … I completely failed. It wouldn't have changed anything though, even if I had got it right," Aerith observes regretfully and then adds with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "but seeing as you are interested … I can help you with what I know now. I solemnly promise I'm not going to mislead you this time."

Who is Sephiroth? That question captivates Cloud more than ever, and he is happy to have the opportunity to find out more about the enigma that is Sephiroth, without having to condemn him for what he is.

* * *

The taste of wine is rather like that of life, sweet and yet always with a hint of bitterness. That explains why Genesis loves indulging in drinking, even though the feel of intoxication is something he never experiences from alcohol. He brings his lips to the cool surface of the glass for another sip, wondering how to approach the subject he wants to discuss with Sephiroth. In the coming morning, he will be leaving the Promised Land, and though he is certain there will be many more times Sephiroth will have him here, the ex-General gives no indication even to when will be the next time.

Sephiroth of course knows what Genesis is thinking, but provides no help in initiating the conversation. It doesn't surprise him that not even God's embrace can leave the redhead content for long, especially when the said God was his former friend and rival. In fact, Genesis has been doing rather well, surpassing Sephiroth's expectations. It is almost endearing to see Genesis fighting his frustration in accepting Sephiroth's decisions as final in each and every aspect of their relationship.

"Do you believe it would have been different between us, had I not … refused you?"

Sephiroth sips from his glass and lets the liquid swirl a little before swallowing. The texture is supple and the taste is rich, just like the redhead before him.

"My hospitality is lacking? Have I not been generous with you, Genesis?"

"More than I deserve," Genesis concedes graciously, but soon enough tries again. "I could not but wonder, however, what it might have been."

Sephiroth can sympathize with that sentiment, though he believes it is their current situation that is frustrating Genesis. He was not a God, then. He believed himself to be a human, even as not quite believing it and still searching for the meaning of his existence. He would have certainly allowed more liberties from Genesis, and not all would have been unpleasant. But the past remains the same, however one wishes to change it. The scenarios unlived will always be just that. The meaning of possibilities lies only ever in the future and the choice one makes in the present.

"You would have still betrayed me. You would have deserted the army regardless, taking _my_ Soldiers with you, and then would have come to Nibelheim to tell me I was a perfect monster."

There is no bitter resentment in Sephiroth's tone, only a detached factuality. Genesis palms his face, despairing at the impassive observation. The glass of wine is now left unattended on the table, completely forgotten. He was right all along: Sephiroth has not forgotten and will not forget the wrongs done to him.

"Is that why you've kept me at arm's length? To punish me for what I have done to you?"

"The price to become a hero is stiff, Genesis. Do not tell me you regret the choices you have made. No matter how many times you were given the opportunity to relive your past, you would take exactly the same path, because only that path would lead you to fulfilling your destiny. Is my demand on your complete submission not worth seeing your dream come to reality?"

Genesis shakes his head in defeat, knowing the answer. He may not feel strong love toward those whom he saved, but he would not have rested till his life made sense to him. And he knew it. He just knew his destiny was to become a hero, even when he was repeatedly denied that title due to Sephiroth's presence. Without making true that conviction, his life would have been meaningless. If he had done irreparable damage to their relationship through his past actions, he would just have to live with the consequences.

"I haven't maintained our distance out of spite. You are not just my little mistress. You are the leader of humans and I am God. I cannot afford giving you the false hope that I will treat you as my equal one day. If I were to let you ride me, to let you seduce me to your heart's content, would you willingly lose what you fought so hard to achieve?"

The words are spoken quietly, almost soothingly, but the message is clear, and there is nothing that Genesis can say to change Sephiroth's mind.

Sephiroth calls the dejected redhead to his side and bids him to sit on his lap. Genesis buries his head on the crook of Sephiroth's neck and brings one hand to feel the beating heart, the heart that he was once sure had ceased to beat. Genesis smiles at the warmth underneath his palm. He may not and probably never will have all of Sephiroth, but at least for this very moment, Sephiroth belongs to him just as much as he belongs to the ex-General.

"Do tell me, however. Why did you care so much for the title of hero? The public opinions are fickle and often undeserving. To want fame is to place one's heart in others' hands, handing over too much power to those who personally mean nothing to you," Sephiroth whispers huskily, warm breath tickling the other's sensitive ear lobe.

"Perhaps, if I have had sensible desires, I would have not been so reckless and the Goddess would have had trouble to find someone who would have played my role, thus delaying your rise to Godhood," Genesis drawls, cherry red lips moving over and nearly touching the other's tempting lips.

"So, you've done it all for me, then. Hmm. How touching," Sephiroth mocks, lips curving in a smile and inhaling the smell of wine infused with a hint of cinnamon. The scent of desire in the air is just as intoxicating as the seductive creature in his arms.

Teasing lips finally meet, giving Genesis his first kiss from Sephiroth. It is almost chaste, just gentle tasting and nothing more. The sensation, nevertheless, burns on Genesis' lips and warms him to the core, almost wiping out his guilt over sharing precious Banora apples with Zack and Cloud. Sephiroth withdraws from their kiss, locking his gaze with Genesis'. And the redhead realizes without a shadow of doubt that Sephiroth has known about the act, which troubled him for the past week or so.

Like many of their interactions, the simple kiss implies multiple meanings. It is of course a gesture of affection and forgiveness. At the same time, however, it also confirms Sephiroth's unquestionable superiority and the inevitable distance between them. Genesis, however, will settle for one comforting message, that he managed to seduce his God to their first kiss, even though it would never have happened, had Sephiroth not desired it.

* * *

A.N. To my silent readers, please do come out and say hello. I'd love to hear from you. If you've read this far, surely you have something to say?


	16. Chapter 16

A.N. I don't think there should be too many chapters left now. So, if you want to see something in particular or believe I still haven't answered some of the questions I raised in this fic, you will just have to tell me, before the approaching end finally arrives. XD A big Thank you to my beta, xlightfromabovex for her proofreading and invaluable critique and everyone who have been reading and taking time to give me feedback. :)

Note to Tyl: Hello, again! I take it that your computer is behaving. XD I'm happy to learn that you found my explanation plausible. And yes, Sephiroth is an enigma, a complicated puzzle to solve. ^_^ Thank you for that! And as for Genesis, I'm sure Genesis can flirt and rather well. XD He has so many different traits, hence an interesting character to write. However, I feel more comfortable writing Sephiroth. I'm still struggling to get Genesis right, but I'm having fun. Hope you like this chapter. :)

Note to SephyRocks: Hey, thank you once again for the lovely feedback! And yes, I love the character Sephiroth too. He's got so much too offer because he is such a complex being. I'm just happy that you still love my portrayal of Sephiroth. ^_^ Your reviews make me smile. Keep them coming!

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

The news of Genesis' return travels fast, awaking the entire camp to fresh excitement and deep relief. In no time, people stop whatever they are doing and rush to witness their precious leader's return, standing and cheering all the way from the edge of their settlement to the new building they constructed for him in his absence. Some even manage to bring flowers they had gathered in anticipation of his homecoming.

Genesis waves at the crowd, occasionally bending to pick up a bunch of flowers thrown at his feet. Angeal follows closely behind him, his expression that of bemusement at the reception Genesis is given. Zack, having discarded his bewilderment soon enough, leads the way, strutting about with his head held high in a gesture of self-importance. Any other time, such antics would have annoyed Genesis, but not when he knows for certain whom the enthusiastic welcome is for. The euphoric atmosphere reminds him of a victory parade after the end of the war with Wutai - only people were chanting Sephiroth's name then. Now all he can hear is his name in terms of endearment, and small whispers of wonder at the glowing silver mark on his forehead.

It is good to be a hero.

Tseng waits for Genesis at the entrance of a three-floor timber building, accompanied by Aerith. His expression hides well his surprise at seeing Angeal alive. With a polite bow, he greets Genesis and introduces Aerith, who has taken to stroking Angeal's Puppy, giggling at the insistent licking.

"Puppy," Angeal calls out in an admonishing tone, but all he gets is a hesitant glance. It takes worryingly little time for Zack to resume his merry bonding session with the pretty brunette. Genesis merely shrugs and whispers, "Leave it be." He'd rather examine his new sanctuary than talk to the flower girl, which Angeal can easily take care of, and he needs to get on with his speech before he can get inside.

Genesis raises his arms as if in an embrace, immediately gaining the crowd's attention.

"I have returned to you with the blessing of our God. For have you not fervently sought my guidance? And does our God not desire to reunite the dew that glistens in the morning with the earth? His desire is the bringer of life." Genesis pauses to gesture to Angeal at his side.

The recognition as to who exactly Genesis' new companion is suddenly dawns on the audience, gasps and whispers breaking out everywhere. Genesis waits till Angeal stands by his side before raising one hand to command silence.

"And what is life if not for the new beginning? Each day we go to sleep to die and each morning we awake to be reborn. I am His chosen and beloved, as you are to me. Through me peace and reconciliation will come between Heaven and the Earth. I came back to you with the promise of the dawn, and together we will build a new history for mankind."

With a benevolent smile, Genesis turns away from the gathering and walks into his new abode, thunderous applause ringing pleasantly in his ears all the way. His love affair with the public has only begun, and even as he suspects that it may turn sour one day, he will not deny himself the exhilarating feeling it brings while it lasts.

For Genesis is made to feel, and feel he will without reserve.

* * *

Who is Sephiroth?

A human, an Ancient, and an alien, Sephiroth is all of these entities and none of them. But this feature of Sephiroth, Cloud now knows he shares with the young God since his successful absorption of Jenova cells. Accepting Sephiroth is a necessary part of accepting himself. Understanding the silver enigma is also part of Cloud's self-discovery. Both their similarity and their differences equally fascinate Cloud, necessitating his need to be close to his God.

The blond youth examines his reflection in the full-length mirror at the corner of the bathroom. It is fuzzy due to the patches of vapor clinging to the mirror surface, and he ponders whether self-knowledge is always like that, never a clear image and just a glimpse of bits and pieces. By the time the mosaic has been completed, the original model changes, making the picture always lacking.

With a rueful sigh, Cloud wipes the steam off the mirror and meditates over the petite figure with spiky blond hair, who has no physical affinity with a certain ex-General. It doesn't surprise him that only Sephiroth resembles Jenova in such a striking manner, appearance wise, certainly not after Aerith told him about the secret of Sephiroth's origin. Looking at his flawless bare shoulder, however, Cloud cannot help but wonder why, out of all Jenova's children, it is only he who has never developed a wing, which he never envied in a not so distant past. For he believed then that a lone wing was the symbol of a monster just as Genesis did.

Only now, he realizes that a solitary wing represents something entirely different. It is a visible reminder that the being is more than a human but still remains incomplete. Angels have two wings: they are accomplished beings in a way, and they need not to strive for becoming more than an angel. One wing stands for a transient status and the need for a struggle to achieve something higher and greater than what their apparent being is capable of. And one cannot go through a change of such magnitude without pain, perseverance and unwavering self-belief.

Sephiroth did not become God by coincidence.

Having dressed himself in a clean blue robe that fits snugly to his figure, Cloud exits the bathroom and heads for the kitchen. He's taken up swimming as a main exercise, and early this morning managed to catch a trout during his time at the nearby river. His mouth waters at the thought of grilled fish and salad. He's become somewhat expert in creating a salad sauce, and the fish is large enough to last for three meals.

It has become something of a habit to dish out two portions, just in case Sephiroth makes another unannounced visit. And Cloud has to admit that he has been more experimental with cooking since they shared a meal. The ex-General of course does not need to eat any more than he needs to take a human form. Cloud therefore wonders whether such indulgences stem from the fact that Sephiroth was still young when he became God, that some part of him wants to live out the life he sacrificed to fulfill his destiny.

_The old continues to live in the new._

Cloud finishes his meal by himself, performs a quick cleaning and makes his way upstairs for his library project. As he climbs up, swift steps turn into jumps and excitement begins to color his features. The door is thrown open, and sapphire eyes are drawn to the middle of the room, to the source of the power that effortlessly pulls him in.

Hot white light bathes the room, an indication that Sephiroth has just arrived. Unlike a previous visit, however, he is sitting on what appears to be a chaise lounge, beautifully shaped furniture upholstered in a pale ivory fabric. The shape and color are exactly the same as what Cloud saw in his mind while imagining the ex-General reading in the room. Sephiroth gestures Cloud to a matching wing chair, and speaks once the youth is comfortably seated.

"Not something that I would have thought of, but this seems to fit with the rest of the room. You are pleased, I gather?"

Cloud nods, cursing himself for his inability to speak when he is happy.

"Have you learned much about the history of the Ancients? Did you notice anything peculiar about their life?"

The blond dips his head, eyes fixed on the glorious silver fall around the chaise lounge. He hasn't been really reading the books, having skimmed through many of them just enough to put them into the right category. His mind was more focused on building the library. Did Sephiroth expect him to learn from the Ancient scripts?

"I've only managed to sort through half of the books. The only thing I noticed about the Ancients was they seemed to have developed a vast range of destructive magic." Cloud manages to give an answer, his voice small. "It seemed at odds with my previous understanding that they were a peaceful race."

No response. Cloud hesitantly lifts his gaze to Sephiroth's eye level, and lets out a sigh of relief at the warm smile.

"A mind that questions is a mind that is adept to change. Without curiosity, knowledge does little to improve the mind. Now, go and find me a history book."

Cloud springs into an action, and after searching through the pile he has yet to tackle, picks up a thick leather bound book titled 'History of the First Era'. A strange feeling of familiarity comes over him, probably an influence of Jenova cells in his body. Having promptly made his way back to Sephiroth's side, Cloud hands the book to the ex-General and waits for a response.

Sephiroth runs his palm over a cover well worn with age. It's been so long since he last held an actual book in his hand, and the experience strikes him with an irrational sense of nostalgia for his life as Shinra's General. The young God brushes aside the feeling, knowing it for what it is. The mind has a habit of tinting the past with a golden hue: the rich may remember with fondness the days of poverty, but would be aghast if actually forced to go back to the life of material want.

Life moves on, and Cloud is one more proof of it. It is actually good to have the boy around him without having to control his will or restrain his movement.

"The Ancients did not always have their connection with the Planet. The Council of Ancients was a relatively new development in their history. You will find detailed accounts of the pre-Council period in this volume. Like every other creature on the Planet, they were at first divided by groups with conflicting interests, often waging a war against each other. The Planet of course did not interfere; from her viewpoint, a war is just as an effective way of controlling population as a natural disaster. The Ancients were, however, not just effective in their warfare skills. Like humans did later on, they developed farming and medicines and cure magic for disease, and the population began to explode, depleting resources everywhere for other species."

An old question that was forgotten comes back to life at the revelation. _Why did we lose? Why did the Planet reject Avalanche, who were willing to use even terrorism to save her?_ Cloud realizes he finally has the answer, now that he no longer cares for it.

"Shinra's exploitation of Mako was only a part of the problem for the Planet. Avalanche never understood the exact source and depth of the problem."

"A common misconception. The human mind has a tendency to overlook inconvenient details," Sephiroth observes dryly before continuing. "The Planet chose to react by a scale of natural disaster unseen previously, driving the population into near extinction. Unfortunately natural disasters are indiscriminate, and many other species had to share the fates of the Ancients. Only afterwards, the Council of the Ancients was established and the leaders sought guidance from the Planet."

Sephiroth stops his talk, intently observing Cloud's face. The blond searches his mind and remembers one particular dream.

"The contract, Jenova mentioned the contract between the Ancients and the Planet."

But then, how was it that Jenova had four children?

"Clever boy. That is the question you will find the answer to by yourself."

Sephiroth runs one hand through Cloud's gravity-defying hair, which is surprisingly soft. He smiles at the light shiver his touch invokes. The blond stands rooted on the spot, eyes half closed and lips slightly apart. If the boy's involuntary affinity to his touch amused Sephiroth before with all its fierce denial, it amuses him now to see that Cloud makes no effort to pull himself away. And when he pulls the petite form onto his lap, the youth settles right into the embrace as though it were the most comfortable position in the world, drinking in the feel of their bodies tightly pressed together.

Just another touch, a gentle nuzzling, or perhaps a hand sliding and settling over the boy's slender hips, is all that is needed to turn the growing desire in the boy's belly into an all-consuming fire. Sephiroth knows, but he is in no hurry to claim what is his, what has always been his. What is to come will come, but this moment of brimming anticipation will pass, and when it occurs the next time, it will lose some of its magic. The precarious and yet pleasant balance between contentment and desire is itself a unique experience, for rarely does desire allow contentment till it is fulfilled. And each peculiar moment in life must be allowed to run its course, without being cut short in overzealous haste.

Cloud's rebirth, forced by Hojo's gleeful determination, had only one purpose. He was born to serve Sephiroth, with or without his consent. When he completed his role as a puppet in the ex-General's ambitious scheme, Sephiroth was willing to let him go, to set him free. But Cloud had other ideas, doggedly forcing his way back into his former nemesis' life.

Cloud never developed a wing because Sephiroth was meant to be his missing wing.


	17. Chapter 17

A.N. I believe we have just one more chapter to go. So, I'm hoping I have covered nearly everything I wanted to explore in this fic and have done some semblance of justice to Sephiroth's character. :) A big Thank you to my beta, xlightfromabovex, who has been an absolute star, and everyone who have been reading and taking time to give me feedback. :)

Note to Tyl: Hope you have enjoyed the spring break and thank you for the review! It makes me happy to know that you are still following the story, especially when I know you don't even like slash. ^_^ Yes, Genesis is indeed strangely likable. :) Well, I'm afraid Cloud is still in his new-born baby phase of life. Sephiroth's acceptance of him will be crucial in developing his confidence in his new life, like children needs and craves for their parents' approval. I believe Sephiroth is a much stronger character than Cloud, and since this fic is first and foremost about Sephiroth, I'm happy that you love the character. :) Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Note to SephyRocks: Thank you! Your reviews always make me happy, and yes, I cannot agree more with you about both Genesis and Cloud being lucky in this story. :) Sephiroth really is a great character in my view, and it's always pleasure to know that he is appreciated by others as well. I was also very happy to hear that you loved my interpretation of Sephiroth's wing. Hope you will enjoy this chapter as well. :)

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

"How is that even possible?" Genesis questions Tseng, throwing both hands upward in half-frustration and half-bafflement. That half of the adult female population was already pregnant really is not an endearing piece of news. "A harsh lesson, and they still learned nothing?"

"The settlement lacks entertainment, and we are talking about ex-city dwellers," Tseng replies calmly. "It is also a well-known fact that the birth rate increases dramatically after a war."

"Not just any war. It was a war caused by overpopulation!"

Tseng considers his options and decides that honesty is the best policy on this occasion, even if it angers Genesis further. "I am afraid they still do not know the exact cause of the Planet calling for her Weapons."

"Are you telling me they are all deaf? Have I not provided enough explanation?" Genesis sneers, sarcasm racing through his condescending tone.

Angeal lets out a sigh, throwing a sympathetic glance at Tseng. Not many can handle Genesis' temper without batting an eyelid. The Turk has been doing an excellent job so far. Still, it can't be all that pleasant. "What exactly did you tell them, Genesis?"

"Two plus two. And apparently they couldn't work out I meant four," Genesis retorts and rises from the table. He makes impatient, albeit still elegant, strides to the large glassless window, opening the shutter wider to let in more breeze. The cool evening air is a welcoming distraction to his heated mood. The redhead knows Angeal has a point, even though it still puzzles him how his subjects can fail to understand that overpopulation threatens the harmony and balance of the Planet, which he emphasized repeatedly. A human lifestyle, even a traditional one, requires more of her resources than the way any other species lives. After all, Genesis has no desire to live in a cave, and he doesn't believe any of his subjects like to try life in the Stone Age - not that they are doing a whole lot better at this stage.

"You mentioned a lack of entertainment," Genesis speaks again, turning away from the window and resolutely crossing his arms over his chest. He has calmed down, but not enough to lovingly gaze at the settlement outside. "Form an entertainment committee, and introduce some after-work activities into the community. I can think of at least a dozen contests they can partake in. I'm sure you and Angeal can come up with more."

Tseng gives his consent, carefully hiding his amusement. He didn't think Genesis was responsible enough to propose a practical plan other than throwing about his pretty visions. At least for now, the redhead seems committed to the new beginning he promised.

"That should alleviate the problem, but doesn't solve it. We have no facility to manufacture contraceptive pills," Angeal points out.

Genesis suppresses a chuckle that threatens to break out. Honestly, Angeal can be so naïve at times. To think that the pills are the only way to prevent pregnancy. That ignorance is rather endearing when applied to Angeal. Not so, when it is betrayed by others. Unfortunately, when it comes to contraception, the majority of his subjects seem to be just as in the dark as his honorable friend. There is a lot to be learned from the collective knowledge of the ladies of the night. But of course, no one would come forward to declare herself as a former prostitute. _Hmm._ If he promises to make one of them a public health advisor…

"I am sure Turks can impart their wisdom to the rest of the populace," Genesis responds, trying to keep his face straight. It won't do to laugh at Angeal in front of a Turk.

Seeing the redhead mouthing a word, it doesn't take Tseng long to figure out what Genesis wants. Before he can give his answer, however, there is a scratching sound at the door, followed by a timid knock.

"Enter," Genesis gives permission, and his voice is all charm when he speaks to the flower girl stepping into the room. "How is life, Priestess?"

"I am well. Thank you. You wished to see me?"

"The duty of a Priestess is that of enlightening the masses to the ways of the Goddess and bringing them closer to God's affection. I've received a positive report so far. You are doing a good job setting the record straight regarding Jenova. However, she was a Priestess, and seeing that you share the same title, would it not be advisable that you should follow her example in meeting your responsibilities?"

"What Genesis means is that we need you to give people advice on avoiding pregnancy," Angeal explains, scratching the back of Zack's ear. She looks far too young and naïve for that kind of task. But Genesis insisted that Aerith should carry out at least one part of the duties assigned to the Priestesses of the Ancients; the other part is, of course, irrelevant.

The Priestesses were the only female Ancients who were permitted to carry the bloodline of the Ancients and each year, they chose one man to mate with them and no man was permitted to receive the same privilege twice. The population control was achieved through controlling the number of Priestesses. It was due to the strict reproductive system that the Ancients took humans to bear their children, exploiting a loophole in their law.

Not knowing what to say, Aerith merely utters, "Oh." She really is not the best choice for the job, since she cannot give birth anyway. The Ancients and the humans could reproduce together. Their offspring could not. She has therefore absolutely no knowledge of avoiding the possibility that will never be hers.

"The Turks will of course provide you with any information you should need," Genesis concludes the matter, quietly enjoying the embarrassed look on the pretty brunette. "I expect you to fulfill your duty. That is all."

Genesis returns to the table, determined to sit through the discussion on practical measures between Tseng and Angeal. He may not be the most patient man on Gaia, but he hates failure. And the success he has experienced is intoxicating, making any prospect of disappointment all the more bitter.

* * *

The room is still mostly empty, but there is a strangely warm atmosphere about it. Thick and sleek volumes of ancient scripts fill the entire wall Sephiroth faces from ceiling to floor, a musty smell bringing out the sense of an ageless attempt at knowledge. The shelves are meticulously clean and each and every book has been carefully dusted and thoughtfully placed. The Reading Room is certainly ready, and unlike the last library he visited, its vibes are positive, almost happy. Cloud has proven that he can work for Sephiroth and rather well on his own, without his strings constantly being pulled.

Sephiroth's eyes glance past the history section, which he knows Cloud has studied diligently, and moves over to the astronomy section. These books are not meant for his indulgence, since he knows them all as intimately as if he wrote them himself, but for Cloud's education. It is nonetheless pleasing to see the fruits of the boy's labor, and knowing that the boy worked with single-minded devotion to please him, the least he can do is to spend one afternoon in that room. Sephiroth pulls out a tall volume bound securely in brown leather. The golden engravings on its cover read 'Astrometry'. The blond behind him lets go of the breath he has been holding, seeing Sephiroth's action as a sign of approval.

The young God slowly turns towards the hopeful blond, a dazzling smile playing on his lips. Early afternoon sunlight floods in through a roof window, casting gold, green, and light violet hues on cascading silver. Cloud inhales deeply, mesmerized by the sight. Gaia, he knew Sephiroth had an unearthly beauty even in his human form, but bathed in the sunlight and wearing an open smile, the sublime perfection of his features is almost too much for Cloud to bear. His God seems so… elusive, like a fine illusion that will surely evaporate if touched.

"You need not despair. If I remember correctly, I held you in my arms not long ago, and it will happen again."

Cloud cannot believe he is blushing again, like the naïve teenager he once was. Times like this, he almost feels he is back at Shinra, with unblemished admiration for his unreachable General. His feelings are no longer that pure, but they are now deeper, because they have survived the test of time and the impossibility of their situation. And because he thinks … he hopes… he understands the ex-General better than he did before.

"You have past your first test. In fact, you've done rather well."

The deep baritone voice now comes from the chaise lounge, and Cloud sees Sephiroth reading. Eyes still on the book in hand, Sephiroth gestures the blond to come nearer. The boy is immediately by Sephiroth's side, an idiotic grin plastered on his sweet face. From Zack's account, Cloud knows how rare it is Sephiroth gives out a compliment, making it that much more worth the hearing.

"I have another task for you. If you wish to explore the human settlement first, however, you may do so."

Feeling rather confused, Cloud scans the impassive face that reveals nothing. Why is Sephiroth even giving him a choice? His God must know that Cloud has no such desire to live in the community, away from his purpose.

_Purpose. His purpose._ He tried to find it, but could never understand what it was. All he knew was it didn't originate from himself; the thing that gave meaning to his life had to come from somewhere else. His path was not that of self-fulfillment. That was why he clung to his friends, even when they meant little to him. And that was why he was unusually content with himself since he threw himself into an assignment Sephiroth entrusted him with. For the first time in his life, choice and purpose agreed with each other.

"I am ready for another task," Cloud replies firmly.

"You are a strange creature, Cloud. Humans wish to remain among themselves at whatever cost."

"I am not a human."

Sephiroth laughs then, a blissful laughter with no hint of sarcasm. The boy's embrace of truth is as uncompromising as its denial once was. "No, you are not. However, you were the same way even when you were one. There was a reason why you were in Nibelheim at the time and why it was you and not Zack who absorbed Jenova cells, after all."

The word Nibelheim has never failed to induce a vision of hellish flames, hot and unforgiving, and Cloud sees the same image now, as if a visit by a ghost from the past. But even that nightmare that used to throw him into a rage no longer angers Cloud. Because that Cloud has tried to kill the perpetrator and died trying, even if part of him survived the death. And the selfish part of the new Cloud is glad that it was he and not Zack who accepted Jenova cells.

"I thought for a long time that you hated me just as I hated you. After Nibelheim, it seemed impossible to think anything else. It seemed wrong to think otherwise."

"You certainly were annoying at times. However," Sephiroth observes, with a small smile on his lips, "had it been Zack playing my puppet, it would have been insufferable. Now, what am I to do with you, a willing puppet and therefore no longer one?"

Sephiroth's gaze finally leaves the book he has been reading just for the pleasure of holding and feeling its physical form. Cloud isn't sure whether Sephiroth is expecting an answer from him, but he is too fascinated by the dark glint in the emerald eyes to think straight. Once again he sees the smoldering flames of Nibelheim, but it is not the cool detachment that he feels now but a desire to be devoured and consumed.


	18. Chapter 18

A.N. This is the concluding chapter of _Destiny Fulfilled_. Hope you will not be disappointed with the ending. Many thanks to my beta xlightfromabovex for helping me to make this fic better. And a big thank you to those who have been reading and reviewing. Your support meant a lot to me. :D

Warnings: The second segment contains a male/male sex scene.

Note to Sephyrocks: Thank you so much for yet another lovely review! It always makes me happy when someone tells me I kept Sephiroth in character. I've come to look forward to reading your reviews, and I will certainly miss hearing from you.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

"This book is about astrometry, which attempts to measure and explain the positions and movements of stars." Sephiroth's voice pulls Cloud out of his reverie. The young God's face is once again impassive, with only a faint hint of smile at the corners of his lips, as if Cloud just dreamt of what he had seen in those emerald eyes just minutes ago.

"I want you to memorize all the books about astrometry so that you can rewrite them for my angels' education. You will also need to study mathematics and physics to understand the subject better. Lelahel can help you with that."

"Rewrite Astrometry books? How?"

"From the space, you can observe the stars better, without optical distortions from the Planet's atmosphere."

Cloud does not question how he can survive in the space, without oxygen. His God must have solutions for that. It is nevertheless unnerving to think about the implications of completing his next task.

"You want to send me away from Gaia, from you."

_After all this. After what I had to go through to be with you._ Sephiroth does not need his ability to read minds to know that the blond is not exactly ecstatic about his plans for the boy. Cloud was never good at hiding his emotions, and the tinge of sad bitterness in his voice was all too noticeable. Cloud has yet to realize what it is to be a God, what it is like to have eternity to live for. No bond can survive that length of time in close proximity. Physical separation was a necessary part of maintaining the bond, else Sephiroth knows he would abandon him at some point.

"That's one way of interpreting my intention for you. Another way would be that I want you to come back to me," Sephiroth replies, calming the youth's fear of being discarded and forgotten. "I want you to be around for a long time to come, perhaps through eternity if you will not tire of it and still wish to serve me. However," Sephiroth continues to speak, only to pause to hold the boy's chin to tilt it upwards and meet the now much less nervous gaze. "I will give you a choice. You can stay in Gaia for the rest of your natural life span, fulfilling tasks that are easier and quicker to complete. It will allow you to spend more time with me in the short term, but it will be all you are going to have if you choose this option – a short term, a spec of time for God."

Sephiroth could not afford giving Cloud a choice when the boy was merely his puppet. He did not wish to delay his scheme, and meeting his goal was of paramount importance to him. In any case, he cared little for the boy at the time. Now, however, he can offer the choice he once denied Cloud, and the blond has earned that much for himself.

Realizing that Sephiroth's intention is to keep him longer and not to lose him, Cloud gives a contented smile. He has never thought about the problem of facing eternal life, but one thing is clear in his mind. He does not want to be just a memory for Sephiroth, especially not a memory that will fade with time. The old Cloud never knew what he really wanted, not consciously anyway. He could not make choices with any certainty of knowing they were right then. But for once he is clear about what he genuinely desires, and when he finally speaks, there is a quiet conviction in his voice.

"I want to come back to you, for me and for you."

Sephiroth hums his approval but does not let go of Cloud's chin, and the blond watches with fascination as the dark glints he saw earlier return to the perceptive emerald eyes. The flames of Nibelheim are back, and with them the smoldering desire that Sephiroth induces in him with little effort.

* * *

Cloud cannot even begin to describe what he is feeling. Blue eyes are wide open, but they may as well be closed, as he is only fleetingly conscious of his surroundings and the soft caress of silver hair falling around his nakedness. He has longed for this moment for so long, though never with any clear picture, never really knowing what to expect, that there was no fear in him when he gave himself to the piercing emerald gaze.

At first, he was burning with shameless desire to feel Sephiroth on him, inside him. He felt hot, and yet his body craved for even more heat. Each touch from Sephiroth was a relief, a gift, even as it fuelled and intensified his desire to be utterly spent in that primal fever. Then suddenly Sephiroth was inside him, driving into Cloud with bruising force, and it mattered little whether it was pain or pleasure that he was feeling. They were one now, or at least Cloud could not see themselves apart, and that was enough to set the smoldering fire into an all-consuming blaze till Cloud and his desires were one and the same. The boundary between the self and another had collapsed in that ancient ritual where life met death and pain pleasure.

And after the fire, the flood came. Cloud finds himself drowning in a sea of strange sensations, pleasure so intense that it is akin to pain. Each time he is about to drown, firm hands placed on his hips pull him out of the pool, making him ride the wave, its rhythm set by the ocean. As the grip on his hips tightens, the soft moans that escape Cloud's slightly parted lips turn into sharp helpless gasps. Sephiroth accelerates his motions into relentless fury, finally abandoning the blond to the sweet euphoria of a long awaited release.

Cloud isn't sure when his eyes became closed or how long he has been lost in the sea of blissful sensation, but when he opens his eyes again, Sephiroth is already dressed in a silk gown, lying next to him with a propped-up elbow. Cloud smiles without shame, because there is no contempt in the emerald eyes that are currently exploring his naked form. And because he has never seen the ex-General dressed in something other than his military uniform. And the throbbing pain that stubbornly remains in his lower half even as the pleasure has been steadily waning reminds him of one simple fact.

Sephiroth has finally claimed what has always been his. And no one, not even his God, can take away from Cloud how it felt to be thus claimed. Like coming home after a long journey. Like doing something right for once after doing everything wrong.

"I was meant to be yours, wasn't I?"

"Yes," Sephiroth confirms, drawing a lazy circle on Cloud's left temple with his thumb. "Now, sleep."

The simple command caresses and soothes the blond's exhausted body into sleep and Cloud dreams. In his dream, he has perfect golden wings that carry him from star to star. He measures the stars one by one to dress them in silver outfits. They sing to him so that he may memorize their songs and play them to other stars and to his God. He listens to them, careful not to miss a beat. And he does so with a smile because he knows for certain that he will soon be back at the one place he calls home, at Sephiroth's side.

* * *

Fresh night air cools Genesis' exposed skin as he stands on a giant boulder thrown up by the sea. The steep rocky beach is not too far from the settlement, but distant enough for a welcoming solitude. It has been only three months since he came back to the survivors' encampment site, but sometimes even his own sanctuary is not enough to satisfy his need to get away from those under his protection, especially when he shares the building with Angeal.

Genesis stretches his wing, flexing his muscles and listening to the wind ruffling the dark ocean. He's just had another quarrel with his childhood friend, and he knows that the fault lies entirely with himself. Even when he was throwing accusations that Angeal didn't pay enough attention to him, he knew he was in the wrong. Angeal didn't have to tell him that Genesis should make his mind up as to what he expected Angeal's priority to be. He knew he was impossible to please at times. It was he who left all the communications with the community to Angeal, but as his friend's popularity grew, he began to resent it and the germinating sentiment among his subjects that their leader didn't care for them all that much.

Such an ungrateful, fickle lot they are!

Honestly, he cannot understand for the life of himself why he still craves the love of the capricious populace. To earn popularity isn't all that difficult, compared with the efforts required to keep it. In the end, it really doesn't matter. The winds only scratch the surface of the ocean, never fully penetrating its depths. What he achieves and does not achieve has little relevance to the universe as a whole. But then what is life without desires and feelings? However silly and insufferable, desires and emotions make it inviting, adding colors and textures to the otherwise dull existence.

Genesis sighs ruefully, his gaze focused on the far away horizon where the sky seems to melt into the sea. The beauty of the untroubled, unfeeling Nature has always had a calming effect on him. The only time it has lost that charm was when he was fighting his degenerating body. He hated her back then, because he was convinced that he was an abomination, a reject of the Planet. Now in a much better mood, Genesis begins to feel bad about how he has kept Angeal away from the Promised Land for his selfish needs.

Perhaps, he should ask Sephiroth to let Angeal stay there for a week or so, even if his God obviously doesn't miss his one-time friends all that much. The first month he was too busy and overwhelmed with the novelty of his project that he barely thought of Sephiroth. The second month, he grew anxious and after that he felt bitter. It wasn't as though he could go out and satisfy his body's needs with anyone of his choosing. Even if he were allowed that little comfort in the ex-General's absence, it just wouldn't feel the same after being with his God. Now, he just wants to feel their connection and Sephiroth's arms around him. It has been far too long since he left his home.

"I have already summoned Angeal to the Promised Land. You are welcome to join him."

Cherry red lips curve up in a smile as Genesis inhales the familiar scent of rose and vanilla, always a delightful combination with his cinnamon and intoxicating when mingled with a salty sea air. The redhead smiles at how Sephiroth's shadow envelops his own completely and how his body hums in contentment. He doesn't have to go home, go to the Promised Land: Sephiroth brings home to him, wherever they are. Genesis leans back, pressing their bodies to revel in the comforting heat and the feel of Sephiroth's lips on his head. He knows that the strong arm encircling him from behind will not always be there, and certainly not for his whim, but at moments like this, there is an unwavering trust in Genesis that his skeptical mind rarely allows.

Their connection is strong and will live on, even when his project, be it a success or failure, becomes a mere memory.


End file.
